


Be My Baby

by mythicalowlsociety



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1980s, Abusive Parents, Angst, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, My Poor Boys, One Shot Collection, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Burn, the whole gang is there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-01 01:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 50,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12145221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythicalowlsociety/pseuds/mythicalowlsociety
Summary: Richie used to call Eddie a baby as a taunt but now he has a quite different intention for the word. Or all the different ways Richie called Eddie a baby through the years.





	1. Mean

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry friend's my grammar is gonna be awful. Just going to put that out there. My apologies. Also Cannon divergence.

The first time the word "Baby" came up was when Richie was being mean. 

 

It was grade 3, Bill, Stan, Richie, and Eddie had just started to be friends and they were wanting to make mud pies and throw them at each other on a Saturday afternoon in the park. Bill and Stan were on a team which left Richie with the delicate Eddie.

Eddie was the worst. 

He refused to touch the dirt let alone throw it and was only good at dodging because he refused to get hit by it either. Soon, the boys would be covered in dirt, mud, and bits of grass but Eddie would be standing there looking like he just stepped out of a Clorox commercial.

As both teams went back to their bases to collect ammo, Richie started making another pie but couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Quit being a baby and help me!”

“Do you know that earthworms can have-”

“I don’t give a shit! Your utterly useless and I’m gonna get creamed out there cause you are too much of a powder puff do play with dirt! God, why are we even friends with you? You’re the worst!” as soon as Richie said it he felt off as though something in his chest got heavy. A stone of disappointment in himself settled in his heart for snapping at Eddie- which was ridiculous! He talked to Bill and Stan like this all the time and it never bothered him. Why did yelling at Eddie cause him to feel this… Richie could only guess it was guilt. But maybe it was the way Eddie’s Bambi eyes widened in surprise or how the smaller boys hands subconsciously reached for his fanny pack at the words.

Eddie frowned. His eyes glanced at the dirt and back to Richie. Swallowing, the germaphobe got down on the grass gingerly. Carefully, with actual sweat gathering on his brow, Eddie put his hands in the mud and started to pat it into a cake. It looked like it was killing him though, his breathing became labored.

Richie watched in amazement.

Eddie looked like he was shaking slightly but his eyes were burning, he wanted to prove his worth. Wanted to show Richie that he wasn’t useless and that he could be part of their group.

But with every passing second, Eddie looked like he was in more pain; as if he was handling acid instead of mud. It actually hurt Richie to see his friend like this, hurt way more than Richie would have imagined.

“Eddie,” Richie tried.

Eddie didn’t look up, trembling but determined.

“Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie scooched closer.

Still, Eddie just gasped and panted through making what was his third mud pie.

“Eds,” Richie said reaching out his hand but paused opting to refrain from contact, his hands were filthy and would probably cause more panic.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie wheezed out.

That was a good sign at least.

“Eddie I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. You can stop-”

“No, I should be able to-”

“Eddie you look like you’re in _pain._ ”

“It’s just dirt.” Eddie gulped, tears of frustration in his brown eyes caused Richie’s heart to flip.

“It’s fine Eddie Spaghetti, don’t give yourself an asthma attack now, I’m way too awesome at everything to get creamed by those dorks. I’m a tank, you just… you just breath, okay?” Careful to not get any more dirt on the shaking boy, Richie fished out a wet wipe and the inhaler out of Eddie’s fanny pack. “Here.”

Eddie snapped the objects up without a fight, scrubbing his hands with the wet wipe till his skin was a raw pink and it took a solid two minutes of repeated puffs from the inhaler to get his labored breathing under control.

From across the park, Stan’s voice rang out, “Times up! Warriors come out to the battlefield!”

Richie stood up with an armful of the mud clusters that had dried in the sun.

“Will you be okay?”

“Yeah like I said, I’m the best. I can handle those losers. You just sit back, relax, and cheer me on as I go beat Stan and Bill’s sorry asses.”

 

On the battlefield, Richie totally got whooped, much to his later denial. And Richie would never admit that he may or may not have been distracted by a pretty pair of brown eyes and a warm smile that were cheering just for him.


	2. Blame it on the demon clown

The next time Richie called Eddie “baby” was with the goddamn fucking clown in the goddamn fucking crack house.

Now Richie was having kind of a shitty summer. Like being able to have the bragging rights to say he helped save the town from a demon clown were only great if you lived to have bragging rights. Period. Besides, people would have to believe him anyway.

And this clown was not making it easy.

Popping up all over the goddamn place but having no one except for kids be able to see him, beyond uncool.

Words can not describe how terrified Richie had been today, it was a roller coaster of fear along with other... emotions that had been unearthed after years of denial and suppression. And honestly, Richie wasn’t ready to analyze everything as he stood in the entranceway to the kitchen to this sick haunted clown house.

Right now Richie was ready to have a breakdown.

His heart caught with his breath in his throat as he looked at the sight before him in utter shock. In front of him, on the remnant of what appeared to be a broken kitchen table, was Eddie with his arm twisted into a horrendous angle. The boy’s hair was a mess with dust and plaster bits (presumably from falling from the giant hole in the ceiling), tears were streaming down his face, and his eyes showed utter terror.

Because looming over Eddie was It.

Richie felt himself shaking. He couldn’t process this information. He felt himself screaming something but he was too lost to move. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a trick, It was not about to eat Eddie. Not his Eddie.

“This isn’t real enough for you, Bill?” Pennywise asked menacingly, momentarily loosening his hold on Eddie so he could turn and taunt them. Bill and Richie just stared back helplessly. “It was real enough for Georgie.”

OH FUCK. Richie wasn’t sure if he said that aloud or in his head but he was reeling. He looked frantically around the room, wishing for the millionth time that he had bothered to pack a weapon. He needed to save Eddie and he needs to do it now. But he was also paralyzed in his panic, what could he use to stop It? Nothing. He wasn’t holding onto anything, he only had a ball of lint and Eddie’s extra inhaler in his pockets, plus the drawers and cupboards to the kitchen were too far away and fuck knows if there was anything left in them anyway.

Then Beverly shot in with a spike that struck Pennywise in the head.

Richie didn’t even think; he just took the opportunity and ran by the demon clown monster to where Eddy was sobbing on the ground. Trashmouth scrambled over to kneel beside his best friend giving him a frantic Mrs. K worthy damage report, the arm looked way worse up close, lord knows how many bruises Eddie had, emotionally Eds was probably scarred for life, but nothing fatal as far as Richie could see. Eddie was still whimpering with small screams coming from his chapped lips.

Gently, Richie grabbed his friend’s face in his hands so that Eddie would be looking at him. “It’s okay Eddie, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie was beyond afraid and actually hit Richie on reflex from the sudden contact. Which, _Ow,_ but Richie persisted rubbing small circles in Eddie’s cheeks with his thumb. “I’ve got you Eds.”

“Pennywise is gonna get us, Riche we gotta get-”

“Shhh,” Richie soothed. “We are gonna be just fine. Big strong Richie is gonna take care of you. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, Eddie. I will never let anything hurt you ever again.”

Eddie still looked petrified. Richie brought their foreheads together and continued to try and calm Eddie down. Somewhere beyond their quiet bubble Richie was aware of his friends standing off against It. Someone was pulling on the back of his T-shirt trying to get him up, but Richie ignored it. Pennywise was feeding on fear and he needed to make sure Eddie calmed down before they did anything, or at least that was what Richie was telling himself.

Richie tried to channel some solace into his friend through physical contact. Richie thought about lazy Saturday afternoons when it was just him and Eds, lounging on his bed reading comic books, their knees touching in just the faintest brushes.

Or movie nights in Bill’s garage with everyone bringing over blankets and lying in hodgepodge heaps on bean bag chairs. Popcorn, bagel bites, and gummy worms being passed around. Eddie falling asleep snuggled up on Richie’s shoulder almost three-quarters of the way through _The Karate Kid._ Richie being grateful for the dark blanket over the room for hiding his flushed cheeks in those moments because nothing was sweeter than the way Eddie’s breaths tickled Richie's neck with soft snores. 

Getting ice cream on hot days, playing Frogger at the arcade, riding their bikes just as the sun was going down and pushing their luck till Mrs. K came and found them.

When Eddie’s breathing evened out and his body relaxed Richie finally was able to do what he needed to:

“I’m gonna reset your arm, okay?”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Eddie screeched. Spell broken.

Before the smaller boy could move away Richie grabbed his arm and snapped it back into place causing Eddie to holler. Richie put what he hoped was a comforting arm around Eddie’s shoulder.  

“I’m so sorry baby,” Richie said and paused. _Baby?_ Where the fuck did that come from?! Richie could deny himself the truth, say it was just him channeling his inner mom or something but deep down he knew that was a lie. Pennywise, the fuckwad that it was, had made Richie's nonplatonic feelings for his friend abundantly clear this summer. Only took a mirage of Eddie luring Richie into a room filled with fucking clowns for Trashmouth Richie to realize his crush. If Richie had to describe the enlightenment he would compare it that of being run over by a freight train. Way more painful than anything this clown could do to him now.

He looked around to see if anyone heard his little slip of the tongue: Eds was in shock from his checkup with Dr. Richie, Bev and Bill were too busy with It, Mike and Ben were watching the fight and trying to help in a clumsy sort of way, but Stanley was giving Richie a look.

**_Shit._ **

As Pennywise retreated back into what appeared to be a large well, everyone rushed out of the house. Richie had carefully scooped the quaking Eddie off the floor and shepherded him out of the nightmare house. Stan didn’t say anything but observed with quirked brows as Richie cradled his friend off the porch and down the sidewalk.

Richie sighed, tried to keep the pink out of his cheeks, his gaze focused on Eddie as he mumbled calming phrases, and tactfully avoided Stan for the rest of the day.  


	3. Don't mess with me like that Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for homophobic slurs and abusive parents.  
> Strap in folks, this is gonna be a bumpy ride.

The next time “Baby” came up was Richie trying to cover his tracks:

 

The Losers had spent the day at the Barrens and were headed to the Aladdin theatre to watch a replaying of Blade Runner when Richie noticed that Eddie was shivering. Richie had had his arm around Eddie’s frame as they walked and was chatting with Bill and Mike, when Eddie started leaning into Richie’s side to try and get warmer. Derry was cooling off in the evenings, days shortening as school approached with autumn in the wind.  

Richie fell out of step with his friends, gently removed himself from Eddie’s side to take off his sweatshirt and hand it to his hyper allergenic friend. Eddie looked at him with surprise, it was hard to tell in the peach tinted light but Richie swore Ed’s cheeks had a faint pink to them. But Richie knew that was probably his brain playing hopeful tricks on him.

“It’s okay Richie. I’m good.”

“No you’re freezing, shaking more than your mom was last night when I-”

“Beep Beep Richie.” Eddie said with his nose wrinkling in a way that Richie found absolutely adorable. Eddie looked unsure once more but took the sweatshirt gingerly as if he was afraid it was filled red fire ants. Carefully, Eddie put the sweater on and Richie almost died on the spot. Eddie was probably the cutest thing that ever existed. Fuck kittens, babies and unicorns, Eddie in Richie’s sweatshirt had to be the sweetest thing in the entire universe.

The sweater was big for Richie, bought so it would last him for years, which meant that it was enormous on Eddie. The sleeves covering his hands with the one arm looking oddly chunky because of the cast, the neckline big so that it dipped in Eddie’s collar bone, and the length so long it almost touched the smaller boy’s knees; overall giving Eddie a ridiculously soft appearance that desperately made Richie want to cuddle him. Richie wondered how visible his blush was getting because _fuck_ his heart was on his sleeve, and his sleeve was on Eddie.

“Thanks Richie, you sure you won’t be too cold?”

“Nah.” Was all Richie was able to choke out as his throat closed from lack of being able to breath. Eddie didn’t seem to notice and settled into Richie’s side once more.

By which point Mike and Bill had recognized Richie’s absence from the conversation and turned to see Eddie engrossed in the sweater. They started giggling.

“Jesus where did Eddie go?” Mike laughed.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Looking good Eddie,” Bev teased from behind where she was walking with Ben and Stan.

“Yeah you l-l-look b-better in that the, R-r-r-rich-Richie.” Bill joined in.

“Shut up.” Eddie retorted nestling his chin into the oversized collar.

“Hey just stating the facts, Eds” Richie smirked giving his friend a wink, he was gonna hide his feelings in humor and a voice as per usual. Shifting into what was a horrendous Texan cowboy accent “You’re lookin’ like a mighty fine glass of water on a blistering June day.”

The boys laughed at that, Eddie giving Richie a shove with no real malice to it. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The conversation shifted to Ben’s new research project, and Richie was so busy avoiding Stan’s pointed stare while trying to manage his flushed cheeks that he didn’t notice that his mom was watching him. But then Richie looked up ahead and across the street, his mother stood outside the liquor store with a brown bag in hand and glaring eyes. Richie almost stopped dead in his tracks, his steps must have faltered slightly cause Eddie was eying him with concern. Eddie’s brown eyes such a contrast to Mrs. Tozier’s, _What’s up? You okay?_  Richie gave him a fake grin that seemed to satisfy Eddie enough.  Richie returned his attention to his mother’s watch.  His mom was sneering at him as she got into some stranger’s car making Richie’s stomach drop.

Richie tried to hold onto the threads of conversation while they continued to walk but failed miserably only offering the occasional “uh huh” and “that’s what your mom said.” Finally the Losers reached the Aladdin and Richie thanked his lucky stars that they had picked a quiet group activity where he wouldn’t have to pretend to not be worried about what the hell the street interaction with his mom meant.

As the movie started Richie tensed. Shoulders squared, fingers digging into the arm rests, deep frown taking over his face.  What the fuck was his mom’s problem? Well besides pretty much everything…  

Over to his side, Eddie put a hand on Richie’s arm before threading their fingers together. Eddie squeezed his hand in support, Richie’s heart pinched at the simple gesture, however, he let his shoulders relax. He didn’t look over, not wanting to see Eddie’s worried face, but he didn’t let Eddie’s hand go until after the theatre lights turned back on.

The walk home had been uneventful with only a slight tense air to it, but lucky enough nobody seemed to comprehend this. Richie acted more normal, feeling rejuvenated from his quiet contemplation during the movie. Eddie was still obviously concerned about his best friend’s behavior but didn’t press anything, instead taking to side eyeing Richie the whole walk home.

Stan, seeing Eddie’s glances, plus the sweatshirt, plus the whole ‘tall glass of water' thing, with the constant physical contact, adding to the whole ‘baby’ fiasco a couple of weeks ago, meant Stan was looking at Richie too. The insidious gaze of Stan felt like a laser beam scorching off the hair on back of Richie’s head. Richie was not about to get into his pining with anyone just about yet. He had bigger fish to fry as he begrudgingly said goodnight to his friends as he took the turn to the Tozier residence.

At first the house was the usual amount of quiet. Fuck knows where his dad is and Richie assumed his mom was out with her white trash drinking buddies. So he let out a breath and went to the kitchen to get a snack only to find the fridge empty as normal. He carefully fished out some crackers from the cupboard when he remembered Eddie was still in his sweat shirt. He smiled, thinking of Eddie curled up in bed reading The Encyclopedia of Infectious Diseases, all soft as he snuggled in for the night. Suddenly, as Richie exited the kitchen grinning, he heard the shifting of couch cushions.

“The fuck you doing?” his mom slurred from her position on the sofa in the dark.

“Nothing mom,” Richie said slowly, almost dropping his crackers in surprise.

“Who the fuck was that kid?”

Richie didn’t like where this was going. His mother barely spoke to him let alone acknowledge his presence or took any interest in his friends. This sudden scrutinization left Richie’s skin crawling.

“Which kid-”

“Don’t fuck with me, faggot!” His mom yelled.

Realization hit Richie like wrecking ball.

“Mom we’re just friends.”

“Bullshit! Don’t you lie to me, queer! I saw your fucking face Richie. Who the fuck is making you sick?”

Richie almost laughed at the irony of Eddie, Mr. never had so much as a cold in his life, making Richie sick. Without warning a bottle was being hurled at Richie, hitting just above the heart like his mom was trying to beat the feelings out of Richie’s chest.

Richie’s eyes widened as he flinched in pain. “Mom I swear that was nothing-”

His mom was up of the couch in record speed before slamming Richie’s head into the wall. “Faggots go to hell, Richie.”

~

The next day, Richie woke up sore. He padded to the bathroom thanking god after a quick inspection proved all his bruises could be easily covered up, provided he didn’t go swimming in the quarry.  He looked in the mirror and practiced a lopsided grin, he’d need to prepare one for meeting up with the Losers later.

So there they were, picnicking in the forest by the Barrens. Eddie was back in his usual post, sitting enclosed in Richie’s side as they leaned against an old oak tree, poised dangerously close to the fresh bruises on Richie’s ribs. Despite the ache, the contact was helping Richie feel grounded. His friends were chatting, trying to soak up as much time with Bev as possible before she moved away, and Richie felt quite at home with everything. They were sitting on an actual goddamn red checkered picnic blanket and eating snacks out of a woven basket, provided by Eddie and Bill.  

“Thank for the mac salad, Eddie.” Ben smiled. Everyone did their rounds of thank yous as the busied themselves with eating.

“Yeah thanks, babe.” Richie smirked. He was determined to compile his feelings into one big joke, maybe if he made fun of Eddie enough he would stop liking him out of how sheerly ridiculous everything would be-

 

Eddie frowned and raised a brow at Richie, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That’s not funny.”

Nothing more was said between them for a while as they allowed Mike to steer the conversation to some renovations they were doing in the barn, Bev talked about her aunt and her cousins who seemed nice enough, and Stan listed the variety of birds that were going to be stopping through Derry as they flew south for the winter.

Richie felt his attention start to shift back to the boy seated next to him. Eddie’s hair was neat but the wind was ruffling it slightly, the sun was shining down on Eddie’s face so it almost looked like he was glowing, his eyes bright with life and fondness for his friends as he listened intently. Did Eddie ever look at Richie like that? Most of the time the shorter boy looked at him in one of three ways. 1) You’re an idiot but I’ll laugh at your antics anyway 2) Are you okay? And 3) You are fucking disgusting. Beep beep Richie.

Speaking of look number three; it seemed like it was high time for Richie to resume pissing off Eddie .

He grabbed his tuna sandwich and started eating like an animal, mauling and mangling his poor lunch. He chewed loudly, with his mouth open, practically growling as he bit into the bread. Everyone rolled their eyes but continued to talk, uninterrupted by this occurrence. 

Eddie looked over in absolute distaste, his nose wrinkling in that precious way. “Fuck Richie, do you have to eat like that? I feel like I need to put you in a zoo.”

“Aw you sure know how make a guy feel the love, Babe.”

“Why do you have to go and do that?!” Eddie asked ripping himself from Richie’s side.

Richie feigned innocence, batting his eyelashes. “Do what, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Flirt with me. Don’t mess with me like that, Richie!” Eddie continued looking more and more upset. 

“Can’t help myself, you’re too cute, Baby.” Richie doubled down, drawing out the last word. Richie was way too far gone, he needed to push himself even though everything told him to stop. Eddie must be as disgusted with Richie as his mom. 

“Cut it out!” Eddie yelled, finally getting the attention of the other losers, as he shoved Richie’s side. Right on top of those fresh bruises.

Richie barreled over in pain but covered it with a laugh. His mother’s words were playing over and over in his head like a broken record player. _Who the fuck is making you sick? Faggots go to hell, Richie!_ His chest hurt and not from the purple marks. It was from the memories of Eddie in a oversized sweat shirt. “Aww Eds you are just too cute-”

Eddie got this look on his face that made Richie retreat. The look wasn't disgust or anger like what Mrs. Tozier had shown last night. The look wasn't calling Richie a faggot. The look was like Eddie was back in the Neibolt house, a flash of fear, like a cornered animal. A blush on his cheeks and something absolutely broken in his eyes. This wasn’t regular Eddie who could take a joke and fight with Richie. This was hurt Eddie and Richie was the reason for that hurt. “You think this is so funny, huh? Well, I can’t take this anymore.” The short boy screamed as he brushed off his legs and stormed off without much thought of all his stuff he was leaving behind.

The Losers looked after the furious Eddie as he rushed out of sight.

“What the hell did you do, Richie?” Ben gapped.   

“You have the worst way of showing affection, you know that Rich?” Stan grumbled.

 

Richie looked down at Eddie’s picnic blanket in shame. The bruises over his heart seemed to throb, _is that what you wanted, Mom?_ Maybe it would be better this way, if Eddie hated him now... for whatever Richie had done to him. But the pain in his sternum seemed to cruscendo to the point where Richie was wondered if he was having a heart attack. He closed his eyes only to be haunted by the images; Eddie angry from two minutes ago, Eds laughing as he rode his bike with the Losers, Eddie screaming as Pennywise looked over him, Eddie fussing over a scrape on Richie's knee, Eddie anxiously using his aspirator, Eddie's brown hair blazing in sunlight on days they did their homework in the park, Eddie on the first day they met with baby cheeks widening in a friendly smile. It was like his life with his best friend was flashing before Richie's eyes making his head swim as he clutched at his chest. He didn't think as he leaped up off the ground and   ran off. He had to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter than usual, they are not all gonna be this long or this dark. Don't worry friends fluff is coming, promises. But first, stay tuned for more angst. Mwahahahahahahahhahaha. >:) - Lots of love Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	4. Don't mess with me like that Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize that this brakes from my ones shot style as this is a continuation of the last chapter. However, I had to brake the chapter into two parts or else it would have been over 3000 words and probably would have taken a week longer to update. So here it is folks, the saga continues.

Richie ran so fast that before he could even blink he was propped up on the garbage can outside of the pharmacy, panting to catch his breath. He only had a moment to try and force oxygen into his lungs before he’d continue to sprint the last three blocks to Eddie’s house.  
Fingers crossed Mrs. K would be in a friendly mood and let Richie in the door, which was a long shot. Even under normal circumstances Mrs. K was reluctant to let Richie into the house, the dirtiest of all of Eddie’s friends. Richie just had a layer of dirt under his nails and in his hair that no amount of hot water or hospital grade disinfectant soap seemed to scrub away. (Mrs. K used to make Richie wash from his shoulders down to his finger tips in a bucket on the porch when they were young and most certainly covered head to to toe in dirt from mud pie fights.)

And Richie was so distracted in thought while running to Eddie that he wasn’t watching where he was going and managed to trip himself on a tree stump on his way out of the Barrens, landing face first in a mud puddle. Cause his luck just couldn’t get any better, could it?

Apparently it could get worse. As the burning in Richie’s lungs subsided the  distinct voice of Victor and the other surviving members of the old Bowers gang rang from a few blocks down. Shit! If they caught Richie they would skin him alive. He snuck along the bricked backs of buildings. Trying to seem inconspicuous as he slithered through the aly networks in a cartoonish fashion.

The voices were approaching fast, Richie crept along the back entrances with his eyes locked to face where the voices were coming from behind him. All of a sudden there was a SOUL CRUSHING CRUNCH SOUND as his foot landed on a discarded beer bottle on the ground. Maybe nobody noticed?

“What was that?”

Oh for fucks sake.

Richie, who was sort of an expert on avoiding bullies after one too many comments about Henry Bower’s mom, took off running off down the back passages of Derry.

What was next? Swarm of bees? He gets hit by a car? Martian attacks and destroy the planet? His day just seemed to be getting worse.

Finally he skidded onto Eddie’s street, he wasn’t even sure the boys were chasing him if he was honest. He just ran up to Eddie’s house and ran right in. He slammed the door closed and pressed himself against it as he breathed hard.

“Mom?” Eddie’s voice called out with a sniffle. No answer.

Richie looked to his side, on the mirror by the entrance was a piece of pristine white stationery with a message reading  “Felt a tingle in my elbow today so I’m going to see Dr. Goldberg, should be nothing. Be back in an hour. - Xoxo Mother”

Richie wanted to let out a snort, however, he was occupied trying to get his heart rate to calm the fuck down to let so much as wheeze out.

Richie felt himself wobble past the kitchen, down the hall towards Eddie’s room, wiping some sweat off his brow. He’d have to face Eddie now- no Mrs. K to kick him out and Richie was literally already in the short boy’s house. Plus if he waited for his adrenaline to go down Richie might never work up the courage to see through with this. Richie closed his eyes trying to think of what he was going to say in this apology “ _Hey Eds-”_ No that would only make things worse! “ _Edward, I humbly apologize-”_ Too formal. “ _Eddie- I’m really sorry for what I did earlier. I was just messing with you but I took it way too far- I’m a total utter loser. But I kinda want to be your loser so how bout we give it a go?” *suggestive eyebrow wiggle_

Finally Richie was face to face with Eddie’s bleach white bedroom door. He shuffled apprehensively, taking a moment to collect himself before he let a soft knock. Nothing. Slowly he opened the door to find- empty.  He walked in giving a small turn. That was funny… Richie swore he heard Eddie’ call out for his mom when he-

A flash of a pastel polo shirt and a fanny pack plunged into view as a terror stricken Eddie flew out of no where holding a bottle of pepper spray about rip the intruder a new one.

“Don’t kill me, please Eddie!” Richie screamed throwing his hands up in the air to block his eyes, forgetting he was wearing the hugest glasses to ever exist.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, confusion evident on his face as he lowered the canister, head slowly wrapping around everything . Richie also couldn’t help but notice the recent tear stains on Eddie’s soft cheeks. “What the fuck are you doing here?! Jesus, you didn’t say anything either I thought you were-” Eddie’s voice dies in his throat and Richie knows exactly what the other boy thought.

Pennywise.

“What do you want?” Eddie asked, his voice attempted to come off as an angry cold but sounding more beaten than anything.

“Eds- shit. Sorry! Eddie! I meant Eddie!” Richie flailed wringing his hands through his hair. Great start, numbnuts. “ I’m here to apologise because I totally went too far today. I didn’t mean to upset you that much, I swear. I just am an utter idiot so… please forgive me?”

Eddie eyed him carefully, and nodded. He looked so tired, were the bags under those brown eyes there earlier? “It’s okay, Richie. I know.”

There was something about Eddie’s face in that moment, a sort of underlying depression to his tender features that had Richie ready to do anything- and he meant _anything_ to relieve the hurt. Eddie wants Richie to go on and jump off a bridge? Sure thing, Richie _wouldn’t fucking hesitate_ if it made Eddie stop looking this way. God forbid his Eddie Spaghetti ever developed puppy dog eyes...

“Hey Eddie you alright?”

All at once there are tears in Eddie’s exhausted eyes, he wipes at them furiously. “Shit, sorry.”

“Hey, don’t you ever apologize for crying.” Richie assures. He puts his hands out on Eddie’s arm as he enters his best friend’s space. “Plus I’m supposed to be the one apologizing today.”

Richie’s wiping Eddie’s tears before he even realizes he’s doing it. He opens up his arms as an invitation. “Come here, Eds”

The brunette practically jumped Richie into a tight hug, burying his face into Richie’s chest without so much as a “Don’t call me Eds”, which is telling in itself. Eddie drops the canister of pepper spray with a thunk on the carpet, his slender frame wracking as he sobs.  Eddie’s mumbling something but it’s garbled out in the sniffles insnared on the cotton of Richie’s cheap Hawaiian shirt.

As much as it pains him, Richie pulls back just enough to look at Eddie. Ever so slowly, almost expecting Eddie to wretch away, Richie brushes back some of Eddie’s soft hair from his face. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t catch that, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie looks down. He whispers, like Mrs. K is in the other room and the two boys aren’t home alone. “I think there is something wrong with me.”

“Oh Eds there is nothing wrong-”

“No,” Eddie insists as he slips out of Richie’s embrace to pace around the room. “I just-”

“Hey,” Richie affirms sensing the hesitancy that was emitting from the other boy.  “I may be a totally ass hat most of the time but I swear Eddie, you’re my best friend. You can tell me anything, just don’t hold this inside anymore, please? I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

Eddie looks conflicted, obviously wanting to repress what ever was bothering him. However, try as he might Eddie broke again with a fresh volley of tears. “I haven’t been sleeping very well, Rich. Every time I close my eyes I see that leper. Every goddamn time!”

“We all have nightmares- that’s perfectly understandable,man.”

“No it’s- it’s the stuff that the leper says to me.”

“What kind of stuff?” Richie asks brows furrowing. 

“I…” Eddie looks like he’s being ripped apart from the inside. He collapses on the bed and curls in on himself. Richie slowly stalks over to sit a good distance away but within arms reach for PTSD cuddle support. Richie reaches to get Eddie’s inhaler cause the boy looks ready to go into some asthma induced shock. As Richie dips into his pockets for the extra aspirator he keeps on hand, Eddie pinches his eyes shut as he lets out a confession in one rush.

“I think I’m gay.”

Richie just freezes but over next to him Eddie seems to explode.

“And today Ritchie, it brought me right back to the Leper. He taunts me like that, asking me if I want these… nasty, disgusting things. Calling me fag one minute and his cutie the next, trying to get me to give in to him cause I’m gonna go to hell anyways. ‘Might as well enjoy it while you can. I’ll be good for you if you’re good for me.’ that’s what he says to me. And god he tells me that everyone is going to hate me. Oh and shit now I’m telling you all this- Fuck! Please, Richie. Please don’t hate me!”

“I could never hate you!” Richie confesses reaching over to grab the trembling boy beside him. He pulls Eddie into his lap, holding him fiercely. “I meant what I said before,I would do anything for you, Eds. Anything at all. You mean everything to me, Eddie, I-”

I love you.

“I’ll always be your friend, for as long as you tolerate me, okay?” Is what comes out instead.

Eddie lets out this actual shiver of relief as he relaxes into Richie’s hold. He looks up with a watery smile. “Richie, you fuckwit, you’re my best friend too. I don’t just tolerate you… well most of the time anyway.”

They let out a laugh that ring for what feels like decades, it's probably not even that funny but it relieves so much tension. The hysterics must have had Richie’s lose Hawaiian shirt sliding cause next thing he knows Eddie is asking:

“Richie what happened to your shoulder?” Eddie is peering at him with wide eyes as he moves more fabric out of the way to reveal the bruises from last night.

“Nothing!” Richie denies trying to back away but Eddie is having none of it.

“Bull shit!” Eddie shoots back. “Let me see!”

Richie doesn’t resist, he just squeezes his eyes closed, breath hitching as Eddie’s fingers trace over the black and blue marks over his heart. He could feel his pulse sky rocket.

“That hurt?” Eddie asks retracting his hands so gently like he's scared he's gonna brake Richie. 

Richie shakes his head, no physical pain… emotionally this one’s a mother fucker.

Eddie looked ready to murder someone. “Victor is an ass, ever since Henry died, it’s like-"

“Wasn’t Victor.” Trashmouth admits taking a keen interest in his lap.

“Than who?” Question evaporates as Eddie comes to understand the situation. “Oh Richie.” Eddie envelops his loud mouthed friend. Then they stay huddled together for what feels like eternity, just breathing into each other. Richie’s carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair, and Eddie’s rubbing small circles into Richie’s back. There is no words between them, the serene silence speaks more volumes than any phrases of sentiment ever would. Richie Tozier, the lippy kid who no one could ever shut up, code named 'Trashmouth', felt himself strangely speechless. He really didn't want to kill the atmosphere with a mom joke so he just kept his lips sealed. Some time later, when the light started to narrow through the curtains as the sun started to dip in the sky, Mrs. K calls out an “Edward?” but Eddie just hollars an “All good, mom” before resuming the quiet.

Eventually, Richie notices that Eddie’s head starts drooping with sleep as the younger boy starts to doze off on Richie’s shoulder. Richie repositions him so that he can be tucked into bed but even through his drowsy state, Eddie keeps a firm grip on Richie. Too tired to be bashful, Eddie cracks open his eyes then sleepily requests “Stay?”

Welp there goes Richie’s heart as it explodes from hyper exposure to raw cuteness again. Richie gives a toothy grin. “Sure thing, move your fat butt over.”

He goes to lie next to his friend when Eddie stops him, brown eyes opening once more. “Why is your face all dirty?”

Richie totally forgot that he had dried mud all over his cheeks from his fall earlier. He lets out a chuckle. “I had the most graceful dive into a puddle trying to get over to you in a hurry, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie tisked, unclipping his fanny pack and getting a wet wipe for Richie. Unceremoniously the borderline OCD boy tosses the fanny pack to on the bed post, murmuring something that sounded like “Don’t get dirt on my pillow, dick head.” Richie had to laugh at that but quickly cleaned his face so he could go back to spooning his exhausted counterpart.

“M’night, Trashmouth.”

“Night.” Richie whispered struggling to put his glasses on the nightstand with one arm as he keeps the other entangled with Eddie's, relishing in the way Eddie just nuzzled in closer. Trashmouth laid there feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, his breath coming easy for first time that day. Sure his bruises still hurt, but somehow that didn’t matter anymore. Nothing seemed to matter aside from how easy it was to count how many freckles Eds had on his nose, 16, or how pretty Eddie's smooth fingers were around Richie's calloused ones.

Before either knew it; fatigue was taking over their bodies drifting them into a sweetly dreamless sleep. And Richie, who had a bad habit of opening his mouth even when not entirely conscious, gave out an indistinct  “Lov’ u , baby.”  into Eddie's hair before everything went blissfully still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all in the comment section!!! I just started my first year at university and have been finding it... challenging in some aspects. Everyone's feedback and compliments just brighten my day, always lifting me up right now. So thank you all so much <333 Not sure when I can update again so it might be a while, I got a couple essays to write. Sorry friends but I'll try to get something out as quick as I can -Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	5. Ain't No Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip, the boys are in sophomore year in high school!
> 
> Whew I'm through the worst of my essays at the moment and can have some more updates before things get crazy again. Just writing some fluff cause my gay sons need to be happy :)

The next time baby came up was during a serenade:

 

It was a bright Saturday morning in October and the sun was radiating into the Tozier kitchen. The sunlight seemed to be transforming the neglected room into what Richie always thought a kitchen should be, that heart of the home full of familiarity and warmth. It was almost magical, the scent of fresh baking scrubbing away the years of Totino's Pizza Roll fumes. The space, which always seemed dark and abandoned, seemed homey for the first time since Richie could remember.

But in all honesty sunlight or baked goods had nothing to do with this new feel of the kitchen, that came from the hyper allergenic boy making the batter for double fudge brownies. Richie leaned up on the counter simply observing as Eddie floated around his kitchen in coral colored apron.The petite teen carefully measured out sugar, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth slightly in concentration. Fuck, Eddie was adorable.

“You just gonna stand there like an idiot, Trashmouth? Or you gonna help me?” Eddie nagged without looking up from his measuring cups but there was only fondness in his tone.

It was sophomore year and Richie had decided to take Home Ec. as an elective because at the time it felt like the perfect blow off class. There was marks for participation, the teacher was a total hippie who called everyone terms of endearment like “peaches” and “my little sunflower”, and who doesn’t want to eat free food all the time? Not to mention a guy named _Belch_ passed the class with like an 85% so how hard could it be?

Apparently very hard, the first month Richie made so many mistakes; adding quarter cup of baking powder instead of a quarter teaspoon in an banana bread, he had charred chicken thighs till they looked like black blobs, got pizza dough stuck to the ceiling that had to chiseled off, ruined a skillet and a blender in what had later been coined as _The Incident_ , and Richie managed to set a large enough fire that they actually need to use the extinguisher while making spaghetti. Fucking spaghetti; possibly the easiest of easy dishes.

The fact of the matter was that Richie was challenged in the kitchen. Frozen food, oh Richie is a hot packet master, but anything more complicated than microwaving or toast was a problem. So naturally he seeked out friendly advice from his best bud. Eddie was well versed in culinary knowledge from all the mandatory mother/son bonding inflicted on him which included cooking together.

So here they were wearing out a Saturday morning in the Tozier Kitchen, practicing the art of brownie baking with the rest of the Losers joining them at noon to sample their creation. Today was gonna be perfect, filled with Eddie in a frilly apron, a feast for Richie’s eyes.

“What do you need me to do, Eds?”

“Stop calling me Eds for one,” Eddie grumbled but handed him the carton of eggs and a small bowl. “Think you can manage cracking an egg?”

“Aye Aye!” Richie called back in his best pirate voice.

Eddie just rolled his eyes as he tried to suppress a smile.

Richie took out an egg; Just brake it, simple. He winded up his arm causing there to be too much force. He smashed the egg on the side of the bowl so that shell was complete cracked in half with yolk leaking out onto the countertop.

“Oh my god.” Eddie looked over with wide eyes letting out an amused snort. “What the actual fuck Richie?”

“I cracked the egg.” Richie retorted.

“Yeah and it's a miracle you didn’t break the bowl,” Eddie chirped sliding over to Richie so he was warm in his space. The brunette was damage control ready; cleaning the egg with a paper towel in 0.2 seconds. Richie’s brain automatically zeroed onto Eddie from the close proximity; he smelled like vanilla and fabric softener, his lips were silky soft looking from routinely applied vaseline, he still had baby hairs growing at the side of his face that escaped the careful tuck behind the ear.  “Pass me an egg, and don’t hurt yourself.”

“Ha ha.” Richie returned dryly but did as he was told. Their fingers brushed on the egg transfer, contact sent an embarrassing tingle through Richie’s entire body that had him blushing at the sensation. _Damn it, pull yourself together Richie._

“Watch, it’s real easy you just got to be gentle.” Eddie instructed with his eyes focused on the task in hand. Eddie was utterly calm, the most tranquil that Richie had seen the smaller boy in months. Weirdly, Eddie didn’t seem to be bothered by the mess of the kitchen. Sure Eds was bound to bring up salmonella and like food poisoning or some shit, but he didn’t look like he was pained by the dirty counter space.

“But I like it rough.” Richie smirked wriggling his eyebrows. “And so does your mom.”

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie continued to crack the eggs and mix them into the batter, no longer seeming to care that he was doing all the work. Richie contributed by bringing down his boom box so they could take full advantage of the house being empty and blast music. He was enjoying just watching Eddie as he glided around his kitchen, there was something so beautifully domestic about the whole thing that had Richie’s heart beating like a jack rabbit but also made him relaxed like all he wanted to do was curl up with Eddie on the couch and eat their brownies once they were done. Richie almost regretted inviting the Losers over because it meant Richie would have to share his best friend with everybody else...

“Earth to Richie?” Eddie called waving a hand in his face.

“Sorry what?” Richie blinked.

Eddie just smiled “I asked if you had any more cocoa?”

“Yeah there should be more in storeroom, just a sec.” Richie bound down to the basement where his mom (while in a state of weird drunk paranoia) kept extra canned foods for like a communist nuclear attack or some shit. As he climbed back up he heard the distinct Boom ba doom opening of a familiar song blaring from the speakers.

Richie stood in the door frame absolutely enthralled as Eddie started to move his hips to the beat of the song with a smile that was wide and carefree. The smaller boy was turned so his face was mostly out of view but Richie could hear Eddie humming along, brimming with happiness as he mixed the ingredients together in a large bowl.

“Don’t worry baby,” Richie sang along causing Eddie to turn in shock with a bright flush in his cheeks from getting caught dancing. Richie just felt himself get lighter as he started to sway to the rhythm. Chiving on over to where Eddie still stood frozen, Richie crowded Eddie against the counter so that he had his arms on either side of Eddie when he placed the can of cocoa on the counter top. Richie reached over and took the mixing spoon out of statue Eddie’s hands as he continued to sing, albeit extremely off  key: “Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low, ain’t no river wide enough, Baby.”

A delighted giggle erupted from Eddie’s mouth as he shook his head, a pretty pink in his cheeks. “Richie you goof-”

“Whatcha say Eds? This is a duet, wanna be the Tamil Terrell to my Marvin Gaye?” Richie asked as he extended a palm out to Eddie.

Eddie’s gaze flicked from Richie’s outstretched hand and back up to Richie’s eyes. There was a millisecond of hesitancy in his face that had Richie’s breath catch in his throat.  Then Eds got this look as if to say “ _You know what? Fuck it”_ as he interlocked their fingers. Eddie sing-songed his answer “Just call my name, I’ll be there in a hurry, you don’t have to worry.”

And the boys weren’t even singing, they were practically screaming out the lyrics in between convulsions of laughter as they pranced around the room with fingers interwoven. Richie pulled Eddie in for a spin. It was perfect, Richie felt like he was dancing on air instead of the linoleum floors of his kitchen. Cause they were free. Eddie wasn’t in the Kaspbrak house where his mother would be having him sit still and quiet like some kind of doll. And Richie’s parents weren’t home to tell him how disappointing he was or call him a faggot. No, the boys could pretend here, pretend to be far away in a world without killer clowns, or placebo pills, or the fact that Eddie was actually banned from the Tozier household because of his ‘bad an influence’. There was no drunkenness or disease in this kitchen. There was just the smell of brownie batter and two boy moving together.  

Richie pulled Eddie so that they were facing each other, Eddie’s arms instinctively went around Richie’s neck as Richie planted his hands on the smaller boy’s hips. The action felt so perfect. Natural even. As if dancing together was just a thing that they did all the time. Eddie had was beaming at him “Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no river wide enough to keep me from getting to you, Babe.”

Twirl, Spin, Dip. They shimmied all over the kitchen. Without realizing it the distance between them seemed to decrease by the second.  Richie loved the feel of Eddie’s arms around him, the contact of their skin was triggering that tingly sensation again. Richie wanted to pretend that they were somewhere far away from Derry, in their own house. Imagine that they were so in love that they couldn't help but dance together in the middle of the day. In the fantasy the song would end and Richie would go out and rake the leaves in their yard, Eddie would wash the windows, they’d come in for lunch and chat about nothing in particular. Hands linked across the table.

Richie blinked, he could think about that later. Right now he need to savor this.

Eddie had flour speckled on his left cheek and nose. He didn’t seem to notice or care.  There was just happiness and something tender in his facial features that seemed to stem from somewhere deeper. His brown eyes had smile lines around them, they sparked vibrantly with joy. Eds’ expression was like how ice cream tastes or fuzzy blankets feel. Richie could spend the rest of his life in this moment and never complain. Hell, Richie never wanted to see anything else other than Eddie right now. Then Richie’s heart stopped. Maybe it was all in his head, like the day dream, but Eddie glanced down for a fraction of second to Richie’s lips. Oh god how badly Richie wanted to kiss Eddie. To feel how soft those lips were.

They were close to, faces inches apart as they sang together. For Richie, it felt like he was in a musical. The lyrics were the truth that had always been there but had never been put into words. He’d do anything for Eddie, no matter what because Richie loved his friend more than anything. Richie’s voice was coming out breathy “If you're ever in trouble I'll be there on the double! Just send for me, oh baby, ha”

This was getting too close, Eddie had to be able to feel the way Richie's heart was flying out of his chest. It made Richie want to panic but something in him just couldn't stop grinning. Maybe Richie just had a death wish. Richie went to dip the younger boy again when - 

_Flash._

The shudder of a camera went off. Richie’s hands on Eddie’s waist tightened instinctively as his head whipped towards the sound. Standing in the doorway was Bill (struggling to hold in a laugh), Stan who was just smiling knowingly, and Mike with a polaroid camera.

That motherfucker! 

Richie quickly pulled Eddie up and positioned the other boy so he was standing a bit behind him. Richie gave one more look at Eddie, the smaller boy's eyes nearly popping out of his head and his face completely red. Richie squeezed the germaphobe’s hips one last time before ripping himself away from his best friend and gunning for a hysterical Mike.

“Shit!” Mike snickered, dodging as Richie pounced.

“Don’t worry, Eddie Spaghetti! I will defend your honour!” Richie cried out in his best King Arthur voice. He chased Mike down the hall and finally managed to tackle the farm boy after cornering him in the bathroom. Richie snatched up the polaroid picture and stuffed it into his back pocket. “Have at thee, my worthy foe. Thou willst not make my damsel blush!”

Back in the kitchen Eddie was left to fend against Bill and Stan, the two taller Losers were having the time of their life. They had enough teasing material to last three life spans.

“Weren’t you supposed to be baking, Eddie?”

“We were. We got distracted.” Eddie flushed, he tried to puff out his chest but there was no physical way Eddie could look tough. The boy was only 5'2, his face was as red as a lobster, and he still had on a frilly coral apron.

“Ya, I noticed.”

“Keep it up boys, none of you are getting any of these brownies when their done!”

That shut everyone up for the remainder of the evening. Ben arrived sometime later, conveniently as the brownies were coming out of the oven, and it was like the dancing had never happened. The gang watched Star Trek Next Generation, Riche was even able to curl up on the couch with Eddie after all. Of course this was under the surveying eyes of Stan (fucking bird watcher’s gaze), but what else was new? Richie would take what he could get. And later, when he had to sneak the Losers out the back door with Mr. Tozier pulling up the driveway, nobody questioned why the house smelled like fresh baking. In fact, nobody paid Richie any attention at all. At one time, the aspect of nobody caring about him would have made Riche depressed, but tonight he was thankful because it allowed him to spend the whole night tucked away in his room, humming a soft boom ba doom beat through upturned lips as he looked down at a polaroid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have had them kiss but where would the fun be in that? ;) Thank you all for the comments <333 Y'all are the best. - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	6. I got you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of "platonic" ways to work "baby" into this story... so I default to my favourite tropes for these characters. Get ready for MORE sleepy cuddles, protective Richie, soft Eddie, and ANGST!!!

It was a miracle that everybody in the Losers hadn’t guessed Richie was seriously in love with Eddie by now. Richie hadn’t exactly hid his feelings since Neibolt house all those years ago and to this day it seemed like Stan and Bev were the only ones that had figured out that Richie teasing Eddie meant something entirely different than Richie teasing any other Loser. 

(Bev had figured out Richie's crush not a week after she moved to Portland. Richie may or may not have let loose romanticized descriptions about his germaphobic friend slip into one of his rambles. "and his stupid silky soft hair has to be just perfect all the time, Bev.") 

Occasionally one of the other losers would point it out, usually Bill. A stray comment like “Jesus you guys are practically joined at the hip today.”

Or Mike joking "You guys fight like an old married couple.”

Which was true, it had been their routine ever since they were kids. The two boys would fight like cats and dogs, Richie would say something stupid (probably about Mrs. Kaspbrak) and Eddie would flip out instigating a bickering match that would most likely end with a “beep beep Richie”, but the two boys would always maintain physical contact right through the argument.  They just had their hands all over eachother all the time; arm around each other, pinkies interlocked, elbows linked, hugs goodbye, sleepy cuddles, friendly shoves, cheek pinches, belly pokes, tickles, and every once and awhile hands held during scary bits of horror movies.

It was just them, like Richie carrying an extra aspirator that Eddie didn’t need and Eddie having cleaner fluid for Richie’s glasses.

It was a familiar routine nobody batted an eye at.

A routine that Richie didn’t think to hard about as the Losers lounged together in Bill’s living room on a regular Saturday night killing hours away.They were huddled together playing boardgames and watching anything that was on TV. Bill’s dad came in at 11 to turn down the television, giving Eddie and Richie a raised brow when he noticed that they were snuggled in together on the lazy boy recliner. The teens had their sides pressed together as they shared the chair with Richie’s arm sheltering Eddie from night horrors as Eddie had his face carefully tucked into Richie’s collar bone. Eddie never liked Nightmare on Elm Street.

15 year old boys didn’t snuggle.

15 year old boys shoved each other at the lockers as they walked down the halls at school. They swapped porn mags, stole cigarettes from their mom’s purse, and pinched beers from the cooler in the garage. They waited in eager anticipation to become 16 and get their own car, they fantasized about cars all day. About what make and model they’d try to get, religiously studying the manual for a 1990 Miata as if it was the Holy Bible. Fifteen year old dreamed about using their muscle car to take girls up to the local kissing spot late at night then driving away to leave Derry in the dust. When the boys weren’t thinking about tiddies or cars or running away they joined sports teams; Football, basketball, baseball, wrestling, boxing. Keep testosterone high as you go for conquests; sports trophies and getting your first boob.

Eddie and Richie had taken to baking on Saturday mornings when the Tozier’s were at work. And Richie’s biggest accomplishment wasn’t a girls undies, a driver’s licence, or a football scholarship; it was when he managed to make fucking _strawberry scones_ with very little assistance from Eddie and not set the house on fire.

Next was probably setting the high score on Pac Man. Not exactly the manliest of exploits.

Bill’s dad left the room wordlessly, but Richie felt a little self conscious all of a sudden. None of the other Losers seemed to take any heed as they focused on Nancy who was trying to convince Glen that Freddy is behind the killings.

Richie wonders when all the touching will become weird for the Losers, it was already strange that Richie was this affectionate with the hypochondriac. At one time this would have been cute, hell Bill’s mom probably had several photo albums of all the Losers hugging and holding hands and what not. It was really sweet when they were in third grade. But now? Richie restrained a shudder at the thought of homo hate spray painted on the kissing bridge. Angry flashes of Henry Bowers came to mind from where they were locked away deep in Richie’s skull. Derry doesn’t take too kindly to anything contrasting that standard starry-eyed American nuclear family.

When would everybody else realize he was…Richie didn’t know… but not straight. Would it be next week? Next year? Or when he’s 18 and still girlfriend-less, trophy-less, and is instead hanging out with his Eddie Spaghetti making cinnamon buns? When it’s revealed that his only plans in life revolve around his 5ft 2’ friend because life without Eddie would be unbearable?

Eddie’s breathing stilled, his hand squeezed Richie’s from underneath the afghan they had draped over their laps. Richie didn’t even remember taking Eddie’s hand or maybe it was the other way around… either way the compassionate moment was appreciated and warmed Richie’s heart. Which is (naturally) when he decided to open his mouth again:

“Hey where are the boobs in this movie anyway? I remember there be way more skin, like all we got so far is a slashed nightie and a tease at Tina’s little slumber party earlier. I thought this thing was rated R!”

“Always so classy, Trashmouth.” Eddie groaned with his lips brushing against Richie’s neck. Oh god help Richie. Richie gulped and looked down to see his friend bathed in the warm blue light of the television, watching the movie from under thick eyelashes. Eddie was just too pretty for his own good.

“Jolly good ol’ chap. I AM quite the esteemed gentleman.”

“W-what the fuck was th-tha-that even s--s-supposed to be-e, Richie?” Bill stuttered.

“Michael Caine” Richie and Eds clarify at the same time.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Richie you are without a doubt the least classy person on the planet.”

“You wound me.” Richie gasped feigning injury. “Well at least Eddie thinks I’m posh, right Eds?”

“You smell like nacho cheese and cheap cigarettes” Eddie pointed out, scrunching his nose for emphasis. (Cute, cute, **_CUTE_ ** ). But Richie notes that Eddie continued to remain plastered to his ribcage despite the complaint.  “And don’t call me Eds.”

“You know what? None of you have any culture.” Ritchie returned.

“Wow you got us all pegged, huh Trashmouth?” Mike sardonically replies. “Can we go back to watching the murders now? Freddy is gearing up to kill Rod and we’re missing it!”

Richie rolled his eyes. “We’ve all seen it already-”

“Shhhh!” Ben shushed, eyes glued to the screen.

“SHHHHHHHH!!” Richie mocks but slumps back into the chair in defeat.

They quietly watch as Nancy bolts upright from bed with her alarm clock ringing. Richie, never one to stay too focused on a task, finds his eyes wandering around the room to study the losers and make sure no one is wondering why two fifteen year old boys still cuddle.

Nothing. Everyone concentrating on the TV. Everyone was content to forget all their worries; wanting nothing more than the movie to drag them away from bullies, parent pressure, homework, and grief.

Tozier lets out a sigh.

Richie allows himself to treasure Eddie’s body heat, the small smooth hand in his, the indigo lighting cast over Eddie’s features. One of these days Eddie was going to realize that all of Richie’s doting was weird and stop touching Richie all together.  

Richie shivers.

Eddie, who assumes it’s because of the movie, promptly squeezes their joined hands again.

Richie hates the way his heart throbs in his chest.

Richie focuses on the television again. _Don’t think about Eddie. Don’t think about Eddie. Don’t think about Eddie and how he’s gonna hate you one day._

_Focus on Nancy as she rushes over with Glen to the prison…_

This worked for a while. Richie became numb as he watched the film unfold, he tried to not think but the quiet was alway a struggle for the loud mouthed boy. Quiet should have been just what the doctor ordered. Richie probably was blushing still and if Richie got the Loser’s attention everyone would figure everything out and then goodbye friends! Eddie, still a closeted gay after all these years, would take all the hugging as taking advantage of him. No, quiet was good. But Richie almost never did well in quiet. It reminded him of too many nights his parents forgot to make dinner or forgot to pick him up from school. Forgot his school plays, parent/teacher night, or even his birthday. Everyone was always telling Richie to shut up… maybe everyone would be better off without him...

Eddie quivered next to him, wincing as Krueger attacks Nancy. The smaller teen let out a whimper as he buried his face into Richie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie murmurs low into Eddie’s ear as their friends hollar at the jump scare or complain about the effects. “I’ve got you.”

 

Its past 3 in the morning and Richie just stares at the ceiling in an attempt to blot out his thoughts. Richie’s still in the lazy boy with Eddie snoring away on his chest, a small puddle of drool on Richie’s Metallica t-shirt. Richie runs his fingers through Eddie’s silky smooth hair, (god what kind of shampoo did this boy use? Eddie’s hair was like angel fluff), and Richie is surrendering with this whole “don’t think about Eddie” thing ten fold. It seems like the lesser of two evils compared to all the thoughts Richie has about his parents. God, Mr. Tozier hasn’t even thought about a dentist appointment for Richie in the past six months, and Richie is probably long overdue for a cleaning but that would require his dad to actually care. Richie’s parents have taken to not caring about any shenanigans that their disappointment of a  son gets into lest it involves Richie’s lack of a girlfriend and his unusual attachment to Eddie Kaspbrak.

Richie wants to think about anything except for his mom’s drunk ravings or his dad’s cruel stares right now. So Richie will take ‘Pining for his best friend who will never love him back” for 200 points, thank you very much. Richie monitors his best friend’s breathing, hoping that it doesn’t seem creepy.  Richie traces Lov(s)er on Eddie’s forearm and the other boy lets out a small hum. Eddie seems to be sleeping pretty well, every once and awhile he smiles in his slumber or burrows his cheek further into Richie’s t-shirt. Richie wonders who Eddie’s dreaming about… Okay, tomorrow is going to suck and Richie imagines he’s gonna resemble a zombie from fatigue but who would want to miss Eddie’s cute sleeping face.

Okay. Beep beep Richie. Like stalker much?

Suddenly Eddie’s brows furrow in his sleep suggesting an unanticipated turn to a nightmare.  And in immediate response to this turn of events Richie isn’t responsible for what he does next: he bends down to give Eddie a forehead smooch on the worry lines that plague the sleeping boy’s forehead.

And it seems to work… Eddie settles down again.

…

Then Eddie promptly bolts awake flailing. Stupidly, the first thing that comes into Richie’s mind is the blaring horn sound and that old guy yelling out “Double Jeopardy”.  Richie shakes himself out of it and is comforting his asthmatic companion in a heartbeat.

“Eddie it’s okay, it was just a dream. You’re okay.”

“Richie! Oh fuck.” Eddie gasps.

“I’m right here, Spaghetti.” Richie coos and tries really hard not think about how Eds called out for ‘Richie’. “What was that about?”

“Nightmare.” Eddie explained.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Richie quipped.

“Just the usual.” Eddie shrugs with a blush forming. “Shit! Did I wake you?”

“No.” Richie answers without thinking then winces. Eddie’s eyes narrow instantly… Great, Mama bear Eddie has been unleashed. _You just had to open your big mouth, Richie._

“What are you doing up?” Eddie pressed.

“Just thinking.”

“Thought I smelt smoke.” Eddie leers goodnaturedly.

Richie laughs.

Over on the couch Mike whinnies in his sleep and rolls over. And whatever hope for lightheartedness goes out the window as Mike stills. 

Eddie whispers more seriously.  “You alright?”

“Peachy keen jelly bean.” Richie offers.

Eddie looks utterly unconvinced. “Right and I’m an 8 foot tall, purple polka-dotted, fire breathing lizard.”

“It’s nothing to worry your pretty head about, Eddie.” Richie tried a grin but it was fake. “Now you should get back to your beauty rest. Want me to sing you back to sleep? Rock a bye baby in the tree top-”

“Richie,” Eddie pleaded. The smaller teen looked down, sliding his soft palm into into Richie’s and played with their fingers absently. Richie knew his friend well enough to know that the conversation was going to get serious. “You can tell me stuff, you know.”

Richie felt light headed and his chest felt tight like someone had wrapped a rubber band over both his heart and lungs. “Yeah.”

“You help me with stuff all the time, Richie. You’re always there for me even when you are being a total jackass.” Eddie stated.

“Aww Eds you just say the sweetest-”

“I’m not finished and don’t call me Eds!” Eddie interupted. “If something’s bothering you I want you to know I’m here for you. You can trust me with stuff.”

“I trust you Eddie.” Richie confessed and it was the first breath of honesty the boy in glasses had all day. And if Richie was gonna be completely truthful those four words felt like the understatement of the century. Eddie Kaspbrak probably knew more about Richie than probably all of the Losers combined… even if Eds didn’t know about Richie’s feelings. Eddie was there with hugs for every single bruise Richie got.

“Good.” Eddie purred giving a small smile. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Richie saluted before wiggling back into the chair and closing his eyes.

“Wait a sec,” Eddie mumbled sitting back up. “You still have your glasses on, Einstein.” Eddie carefully removed the giant coke bottle spectacles from where they sat crooked on Richie’s nose and tucked a stray piece of Richie’s unruly hair behind his ear.

Richie sucked in a breath.

His vision was blurry but he could still see Eddie’s chocolate colored eyes in the dark. Richie was vaguely aware of his best friend whisper scolding him, Eds was probably going through the motions of the usual _it’s a miracle you haven’t broken these yet Trashmouth_ monolog _,_ but Richie was more focused on Eddie’s fingers which lingered on his temple for half a second before the younger boy was placing the glasses on the coffee table.

“And Rich?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie ran his thumb over Richie’s knuckles. “You know we all care about you. You belong here, with me and the Losers, alright?”

Richie barely could manage a nod.

Eddie concluded “We’re your family and we love you, mom jokes and all.”

“I love you guys too.” Richie promised. God tonight had gotten wayyyy too deep “Almost as much as I love your mom.”

“Shut up.” Eddie gave Richie a weak punch and nosed his way back onto Richie’s chest.

“Night Eddie.” Richie hummed.  Maybe 15 year old boys weren’t supposed to cuddle but Richie felt perfect as he tightened his arm around Eddie and kept their fingers connected as both boys drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Says I'm going to update regularly again  
> Me: Doesn't do that.
> 
> Sorry folks I know I said I was going to be able to have more chapters in but that... didn't happen. I live in an icy igloo in Canada and we had our Thanks Giving holiday last weekend so I had last Friday to Monday filled with turkey and relatives coming over which gave me little time to write on top of homework from these last few days. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you all for your patience and all the wonderful comments you give me. All you guys are amazing!!! -mythicalowlsociety


	7. Poor Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sick fic nobody asked for. I'm trash don't look at me xD

The next time baby came up was a tease;

 

The Losers were were squatting around an oak tree in the school yard when it happened.

Bill, Stan, and Richie were debating which monster was “scarier”; Werewolves or vampires. Richie exclaimed  “Guys I think we are missing the point; the scariest monster to walk this earth is Eddie’s Mom.”

Eddie snapped out of his poetry conversation with Ben to promptly punch Richie’s shoulder before returning to discussing siliques. Richie laughed and continued by saying that clearly a hair man in the woods could not compare to the true horror of getting your blood drained from your body when without warning:

“Achew!!” Eddie sneezed.

Eddie. SNEEZED.

And it was possibly the most darling sound Eddie had ever made. It was like a kitten sneeze.

“Awww…” Richie drawled.

“Bless you.” Ben smiled. The sneeze was too adorable for even good ol Ben with all of his niceties to not want to tease Eddie about it.

Eddie blinked, totally utterly unused to the sensation of sneezing. He stared down at his nose, a little cross-eyed, as if was an alien organism that had just rooted itself onto his face.

And then the panic sunk in.

“Shit!!!” Eddie squawked so loud that old deaf Mrs. Clark looked over and she was standing across the street. “Fucking shit!!! This is bad.”

“E-d-ddie you’re okay. You j-just-t sneezed, is all.” Bill attempted to pacify.

“I DON’T GET SICK, BILL.”

“Maybe it was allergies?” Stan offered.

“It’s autumn! There is like no pollen anywhere!” Eddie wrung his fingers through his hair. His chest started to heave. And okay it should never be funny when your friend is freaking out, and Eddie looked two seconds away from  knocking himself out from via over hyperventilating, but Richie was finding this hilarious and was (failing) to hold in a chuckle.  

“O my god I’m getting a cold!” Eddie wailed.

“Oh poor, Baby!” Richie chortled earning him a glare from Bill.

“Richie, I never get sick which means my immune system is shit! That means I have zero antibodies to fight a cold so I am gonna get really really really sick. My little cold will become a full on flu in a matter of days and the second my mom gets wind of this I will be committed to a hospital for the next three months and I for one am really not looking forward to the steady diet of green jello and antibiotics!”

Ben reached over and patted Eddie’s arm. “It was just a sneeze maybe it was a fluke and it won’t happen ag-”

“Ah-ahchew!” Eddie’s nose trumpeted right on time. Eddie glowered. “Goddamn it!”

Eddie’s pouting lips were such a pretty shade of pink. Richie grinned. “Chill Eds! Why don’t you go home? All those pill bottles around you must have some cold medicine. Play hookie one afternoon, rest up and you’ll be back to your ridiculous state of health in no time.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “You’re suggesting I ditch school? Do you have any idea what my mom would do to me if-”

“You were actually sick for once? I imagine it would involve several blood tests and like another twenty pills for you to take.” Richie interjected. “It’ll be fine! Just make sure she doesn’t answer the phone when the school calls and it’s like you were never gone.”

“You do this often don’t you Rich?” Eddie grumbled.

“What can I say? I’m a bad boy.” Richie winked.

Stan snorted before nodding. “Hate to say it but I actually agree with Trashmouth on this one… if you’re worried about getting sick you probably should go home.”

“Best way to stop the spread of illness is to stay home if you’re sick.” Richie pushed up his glasses, he was shooting one of Eddie’s wellness proverbs back in Eddie’s cute little face. Richie never thought he’d see the day.  

“Fine.” Eddie gave out an exasperated sigh. “Cover for me?”

“Absolutely.” Ben assured.

With that the bell rang and Eddie frowned.

“Feel b-better-r soon Eddie.” Bill smiled sympathetically as he packed up his lunch.

“Hosta Lavista, Loser” Richie waved.

“Yeah, bye guys.” Eddie signed off as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and pensively stalked toward the open road, tip toeing off the school yard like he was a burglar in the dead of night.

“Do you think Eddie’s gonna be okay?” Ben asked watching as Eddie crept along the sidewalk.

“Jesus Christ!” Richie groaned. “You guys are like treating him like he’s living in the Victorian Era and just contracted smallpox. It’s a cold. He’ll live.”

“Smallpox, huh? Somebody did their history homework.” Stan teased but his eyes displayed another message. Stan was well aware of certain study sessions that had recently occurred. Days were Eddie and Richie would set out to study, and usually Kaspbrak could keep Richie on track for about an hour or so but then they’d end up messing around for a couple hours. Eddie and Richie were spending an astonishing amount of time together recently without the Losers, so what? Stan insinuating anything is beneath him.

“Yeah Eddie Spaghetti practically duct taped me to a chair talking about history  and the importance of succeeding in standardized testing blah blah blah. Anyways the point is that Eddie’s a tough little nugget and he’s gonna just fine and y’all are pulling a Mrs. Kaspbrak. Just be cool like me for once.”

“Oh yeah Richie cause you are soooo cool.” Stan mocked as the boys headed back inside. 

~

 

The next day after school Richie pedaled over to the Kaspbrak residence, his bike teetering a little from the extra textbooks for Eddie in his bag. Ben had suggested that somebody take Eddie his missed work as the germaphobe was already behind in a number of classes (Mrs. K was worried about a pinkeye outbreak in Derry a month ago and was scared shittless that delicate Eddie had come into contact with someone infected at school resulting in a four day quarantine period).

And it seemed only right to get poor Eddie his homework for the next couple of weeks seeing as Mrs. Kaspbrak engaged a full on house arrest when she heard her son sniffle at the dinner table yesterday evening.

 

Bill had initially volunteered to be errand boy but Richie had managed to “persuade” Bill to let Richie take the homework. Richie had been slick, his subtle manipulation went undetected as he verbally sniped down Big Bill’s willpower with the most logical of arguments, all while maintaining the coolest of “I don’t really care” rebel personas.

In other words Richie struck Bill like some kind of verbal bull on a rampage until Bill, who really didn’t care that much to begin with, had had enough of the badgering and relented.

Hey, Richie was taking it as a win.

Plus with a school work on his side this was the only way Richie was going to be able to see Eddie with Mrs. K standing around like some kind of protective gargoyle.

However, Richie noticed that the Kaspbrak car was not parked out front so he quickly stashed his bike agianst the siding of the house and snuck into the pristine home as ninja like as possible. Carefully, Richie inched into the kitchen taking out a tin can from his backpack: now to surprise Eddie with soup and not a kitchen aflame.

 

~

 

Richie slithered down the hall balancing a tray mounted with soup and tea on his hip as he softly knocked on the door. “Room service!”

“Come in.” a voice croaked from inside the bedroom. Richie entered to see a very very very legitimately sick Eddie swaddled in layers of blankets. Eddie had been right about what ever lack of immune system mumbo-jumbo he had rambled about yesterday; the boy looked like shit. His button nose was a swollen red, Eddie’s usually beautiful Bambi eyes were bloodshot and glassy, his cheeks were flushed in an alarming way instead of the cute way, and the rest of Eddie’s skin was a pasty sickly white. The smaller boy was shivering despite the gigantic blanket cocoon he was swallowed in and he had a several platoons worth of used tissues dispatched around him that it looked like an invasion of buggers had seized the bed, the side table, and the garbage can. Eddie looked like he had lost the battle of sickness entirely.

“Crickey! You’ve got this place so chocka full with snotty hanks we’re just gonna hafta spin the tables now, eh mate?” Richie exclaimed in a god awful Australian accent.

“Spin the tables?” Eddie quirked a brow, his voice raspy. “You’re just making stuff up now Trashmouth.”

“Wow, so that’s what a hundred year old chain smoking dragon sounds like.” Richie chirped walking over to dump the tray on Eddie’s lap.

“You made this?” Eddie gasped looking down at the bowl of soup in front of him.

“Well technically I just heated it up, it’s just your ol’ classic Campbell's chicken noodle. I didn’t want to risk actually making soup and like melting your nice sauce pans to the stove or something.”

“Speaking of which, you remembered to turn the stove off, right?”

“ I knew I was forgetting something-”

“Richie!” Eddie cried, voice cracking the ugliest of ways. (But even when sick with a voice cracking worse than a 13 year old boy; Eddie manages to be utterly adorable).

“Woah there Eddie Spaghetti! Don’t waste that velvety voice yelling at me. I turned the stove off, I checked like three times before making my grand entrance.” Richie promised.

Eddie burst into a coughing fit that wracked his whole body so bad that Richie slid the tray off the smaller boy to keep the bowl of soup and tea from spilling onto the sheets.

“You alive there, Eds?”

“Don’t _*cough_ call me * _cough cough cough_ Eds _*cough,_ Fuckwad.”

“Well you certainly aren’t sick enough to let that slip.” Richie smiled patting Eddie’s shoulder as the boy calmed back into his pillows. “Now eat your damn soup to fix that throat before you permanently sound like Cher.”

Richie quietly exited the room to grab the waste basket from the bathroom and came back to clear some of the gross tissues off of Eddie’s bed (oh what we do for friendship). Eddie must be feeling like death if he wasn’t freaking out about all the germs he was surrounded by (although he did make Richie still sanitize his hands twice afterwards).

Richie plopped onto the end of the bed and the two boys sat in silence for a few minutes.

“You know there has got be like tons of MSG and other preservatives in-”

“FOR THE LAST TIME EAT THE GODDAMN SOUP EDDIE!”

“I’m eating.” Eddie complied slurping down a big spoonful to accentuate the point. The room turned quiet again, and as much as quiet usually made Richie feel like plucking every hair from his head until he was bald; this wasn’t necessarily the bad kind of quiet. It was almost a comfortable type of stillness, the sort of calm Richie only ever felt with Eddie.

The sick boy looked down at the noodles on his spoon, flushed cheeks glowing a little darker. “Thanks though, Richie.”

“Hey anytime, Loser.” Richie grinned. “Oh I brought your homework too! Mr. Harvey is ready to stage an intervention with your mom, I swear. He was so pissed when I told him you were sick that, I kid you not, his aura was visibly red.” Richie recalled as he rummaged through his bag trying his best to separate his doodle riddled handouts with Eddie’s assignments. “Oh and Ben has this book of weird poems to lend you since you’re cooped up in this prison- whoops I meant room probably for the next decade or two.” Richie explained as he positioned the fat stack of books and loose papers onto Eddie’s night stand.

“You managed to crumple the pages… you had a couple of papers for a few hours and they’re already crumpled! And smudged- what even is that? Mustard? How did you get mustard on my algebra?! Teacher hands out the sheet, you put it in your bag. Like how hard is it to-”

“Do you remember Eddie, like a minute ago when you said thank you? And you were all grateful? Those were the good old days, I’d love to go back to that.”

“Sorry.” Eddie withered. “I really appreciate it, Richie. Honestly. I’m just a big grump today. I’ve been in here for not even 24 hours and I’m already contracting cabin fever on top of my actual fever. I just don’t know what to do with myself, I’ve never been this sick before.”

“Yeah you do share a remarkable resemblance to your dirty kleenex right now.” Richie teased dodging as Eddie picked up one of said tissues and chucked it at his head. “I’m surprised Mrs. K wasn’t monitoring you.”

“Oh believe me she wanted to but she already signed on to do this medical trial for these new pills at the pharmaceutical college. Participants get $500 if they finish a full two month lab experiment. She won’t be back until 5.”

“Hopefully those pills will keep her chlamydia away, I don’t want to get that again.”

Eddie successfully managed to pelt Richie’s elbow with a kleenex. Richie, rubbing hand sanitizer into the crook of his arm at Eddie’s insistence, asked “So you’re off the leash today?”

“Not exactly, she’s been calling every hour on the hour.”

“What happens if you’re asleep?”

“Oh I had a two hour nap scheduled at 1 already.”  

Richie rolled his eyes. “Man it’s times like this I wonder what a total bachelor like myself is doing with a clingy lady like your mom. I mean, she’s got great-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Eddie hissed hurling yet another snotty tissue.

Richie couldn’t help the laugh that gurgled from his chest. “So how are you feeling, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Like someone turned my head into a cement mixer.” Eddie sniffled still shivering under his blanket burrito.

“When was the last time you took any pills?”

“12:30. I’m supposed to take them every five hours or so.” Eddie recited gesturing to a full on itinerary checklist on his night stand.

“What’s your temp?” Richie asked leaning over to put his palm on Eddie’s forehead. “Cause you feel a little warm, doesn’t seem like your fever went down much.”

Eddie’s cheeks darkened again. “You got a medical degree now?”

“Dr. Richie PHD is at your service.” Richie smirked wiggling his eyebrows.  

Eddie got even more red, if possible.

“But seriously, Eds we got to get your fever to come down a little. You probably shouldn’t be so bundled up, so you uncoil yourself from that cocoon. I’m going to get you a damp cloth for your forehead and a glass of water. If you’re good Dr. Richie might have a lollipop.”

“Dr. Richie sounds like a perv.”

“Come on Eds, blankets off. Now.” Richie commanded as he went to fetch the water and washcloth, ignoring his ill friend shouting a “Don’t call me Eds!” after him.

Re entering the room with the supplies, Richie was met with a very dizzy Eddie who was leaning haphazardly against his bed frame.

“What the fuck?” Richie asked quickly putting the water glass down so he could keep Eddie from tumbling to the floor.

“I got stuck in the blankets and tried to get out of bed but my head feels weird.” Eddie hoarsely explained.

“Here Eddie, lean on me.” Richie said shouldering Eddie’s weight as the smaller boy pressed his fevered body into Richie’s side to steady himself. Richie gently unraveled the blankets from Eddie’s legs and slid the boy back into bed. Richie found himself brushing Eddie’s bangs from his forehead, noticing the cold sweat that had broken out, and draped the the damp wash cloth above Eddie’s brows. Eddie released a ragged sigh of relief and the sensation.

“Ground control to Eddie, have we come back from orbit?”

“Not yet.” Eddie groaned closing his eyes to try and make the room stop spinning.

Richie sat back on the end of the bed, patting Eddie’s pajama clad legs. Richie hated seeing Eddie like this, Eddie was never supposed to get sick. Ever. If the boy who washes his hands twice every hour gets sick then there isn't any hope for anyone else. But mostly Richie hated seeing Eddie down, nothing was allowed to make Eddie Kaspbrak upset lest it be one of Richie's mom jokes. Determined to uplight moral; Richie reached for the book Ben had loaned Eds, deciding he'd fill the next few minutes reading aloud. “The Best of William Wordsworth; I wandered lonely as a cloud...”

 

~

That few minutes reading turned out to be half the book.

Eddie, once he had gotten his baring, sat propped up against his headboard listening intently as Richie read the poems. The boys let out cackling laughs as Richie narrated almost entirely in voice, Trashmouth going through his vast repertoire and showcased everything from Scandinavian Viking to 1940’s mobster. Occasionally, Richie would stop to rub Eddie’s back or get him another glass of water when the boy erupted into a fit of coughing, but otherwise, their time was pleasantly spent exploring the poems together.

Not a second after five o’clock, Sonia Kaspbrak burst through the front door and marched straight to Eddie’s room with several pill bottles in her clutches. Her face was a mess of worry but it morphed into utter displeasure when she saw Richie sitting on her precious Eddie’s bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Richie was nice enough to bring me my homework, Mommy.”

“What are you _still_ doing here?” Mrs. Kaspbrak pressed. Richie once saw how cobras have those flaps on their neck which open up when they get angry. Richie swore to god Mrs. Kaspbrak had those kind of flaps and that they were out right now. Richie retracts to his original statement yesterday; Mrs. Kaspbrak was absolutely the scariest monster alive. 

Richie took this as his sign to leave. “I was just making sure ol’ Edward hadn’t died of the plague, Mrs. Kaspbrak. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Thanks again, Richie.” Eddie smiled sheepishly as his mother flocked over him.

“Feel better soon, Spaghetti Eddie.” Richie farewelled. Tozier could hear Sonia scolding her son as he entered the hallway.  _What if that boy was infected with another disease, Eddie dear? Your system is too weak right now to fight anything else off. You could get mono!!! And what was in this bowl? Was that store bought soup? You know how much preservatives are in that Eddie, it’s not good for your delicate bowl system. That boy is not to come back when you’re sick. He’s not to come back at all!_

“Ha _.”_ Richie thought. “You haven’t seen the last of me!” Richie put on his sneakers at the door, already plotting to surprise the Kaspbraks tomorrow with more poetry books for “homework” and be sure that his Eddie was feeling better soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just... trash.... I won't apologize but this was trash. 
> 
> I've gotta apologize for my grammar in these guys. I try to edit my work but I know that I miss A LOT of errors so feel free to point stuff out if there is ever incoherent sentences.
> 
> Thank you guys in the comments, y'all keep my happiness levels up. I also want to thank all you people who leave tags for bookmarks, I've noticed some of y'all who have bookmarked the work have put nice little comments there too. That's really sweet of you ;3 <333 - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	8. Don't mean it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for underage drinking and homophobic slurs.  
> Gonna alternate between Stan and Eddie's narration in this one to spice it up.  
> Buckle-up, Buttercups

Stan was just trying to watch the damn Canadian Goose migration over Derry. Was that too much to ask? Stan had had a long hard day; his dad was livid that Stan hadn’t memorized the Exodus yet, Mr. Harvey had a surprise pop quiz first thing in the morning, Richie had some sort of date tonight and was bragging about it endlessly (Stan couldn't believe that _Trashmouth_ got a girlfriend before anyone else), somebody stole Stan’s yamaka again during gym (and it was his favorite one too), the cafeteria was only serving pork chops or the mystery meat stew which Stan speculated was just pork chops in brown sauce, and whole goddamn day Richie and Eddie had been bickering nonstop about Richie’s smoking habits. Meaning the whole goddamn day was crammed with yelling, shoving, and “don’t call me Eds”.

So yeah, Stan was stressed out but he was looking forward to the geese migration that he had been planning and charting for weeks. He had checked into several radio stations across North America to pinpoint that the geese would be passing over Derry tonight. Hell, Stan even calculated how fast the birds traveled with elements such as weather, rest stops, and distance.

Stan was camped out at little past midnight at the barrens, minding his own damn buisness, with binoculars waiting for his feathered friends to pass by when he heard a rustling in the bushes.

Stan opted to ignore it keeping his eyes on the sky but not long after he heard someone stumbling around singing Simple Minds “Don’t you Forget about Me.” Low and behold Richie came crashing through the trees looking absolutely wrecked; the lanky teen took a long swig from whisky bottle before realizing it was empty. Frustrated by the lack of alcohol in the bottle, Richie smashed the bottle on a nearby boulder continuing to sing.

“Richie? What the fuck?” Stan sputtered.

“Stan? Stan da man?” Richie slurred tripping over stones as he approached. “Whatcha doin’ out here?”

“Bird watching, what the fuck are you doing? Are you drunk?” Stan asked.. Which seemed like a stupid question but Stanley just couldn’t fathom finding Richie intoxicated on Thursday night in November.

“That I am, man the Stan.” Richie answered dropping down on the ground beside his friend.

“Why?”

“Why not?” Richie seemed to fold up on himself like a scared little kid at the question.

“Richie.” Stan firmly called. “What happened?”

“Fucking Eds, man. He’s so mad at me.”

“You got shit faced because you got in an argument with Eddie?” Stan blinked. “You fight with Eddie all the time! Don’t tell me you get-”

“No!” Richie protested. “I know that Eds and I fight a lot. Like a lot a lot. But is cuz he’s so fuckin’ adorable when he’s angry! His little cheeks get so red and he tries to be scary but he’s soooooooo smol. Naw, I just- shit, man.”

“Yeah.” Stan gave a sympathetic smile. “Wanna join me? The Canadian goose, Branta canadensis, is gonna be migrating over top of Derry in a few minutes.”

“Sure!” Richie beamed happily. “You know we never do shit together no more-”

“Shhh. It’s starting!” Stan interrupted as he lifted up binoculars to see the geese flying up above, their wings shining in the moonlight. Stan tried to enjoy the experience as huge flocks traveling in ‘v’ formations soared overhead but he had to tune a very drunk Richie out. Richie just kept giggling or shouting “It’s too damn quiet!” or “Stan the Man is a fan… of shit birds doesn’t rhyme with fan.”

Stanley watched on for a good ten minutes as the birds danced across the night’s sky in perfect pattern. Finally, when he could no longer see the winged wonders Stan turned only to find… Richie and his bicycle gone.

“Shit!” Stan cursed leaping around in all directions only to face rocks and trees, Richie no where in sight. 

 ~~~

There was a knocking at his window that woke Eddie up. Eddie jolted awake tossling the copy of Edgar Allen poems he had been reading when he had fallen asleep to the floor. The startled boy wiped his head to look and see a mop of black curls that could only belong to Richie on the other side of the glass.

Eddie rushed over to the window to open it, greeted with a slurred “Hiya Eds.”

“Richie? What the fuck man? It’s passed midnight!”

“Awww don’t ya miss-z me?” Richie stumbled into the room nearly face planting on the floor.

“Shhh!” Eddie whispered, bracing a teetering Richie from falling by grabbing his shoulders, Eddie turned his face toward the door and listened to see if his mother had stirred from the ruckus.

Nothing.

Eddie breathed out a sigh of relief and turned to face Richie again to find the taller teen looming over him. Richie face was close, pupils dilated behind his thick glasses, and a dopey grin on his face. “Hi.”

Which was when Eddie smelled the alcohol.

“Have you been drinking?” Eddie asked eyes going wide.

“Only a little.” Richie wobbled over his words.

“Oh god Richie are you okay? What happened?”

“I kissed Pamela Goldbloom tonight.” Richie stated flopping so his head resting on Eddie’s collar bone.

“That’s um.. nice- did she pressure you into drinking though? Cause honestly, I gotta say I don’t want you dating her if she-”

“Naw, she was a great gal. Truly a marvel, no drinking; had her home by 9:30. She even stuck her tongue down my throat.”

Eddie felt cold all of a sudden, like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. He couldn’t help the image of his best friend with Pamela Goldbloom getting to first base playing over and over in his mind. Richie and Pamela propped up in the Aladdin with some re-release in the background as they kissed. They were in the back of the theatre but everyone knew they were making out, lips smacking obnoxiously and teeth clacking, someone would wolf whistle but the two teens would remain with their faces glued together. Richie with his hands on Pamela’s cheeks keeping them close together as they lip locked. “Uh-huh.”

“But the whole time all I could think about was that you were mad at me… are you mad at me Eddie?”

“Yes… but for different reasons now. I just want you to take care of yourself, moron.” Eddie explained. “Why did you get drunk? Richie please-”

“The whole time I was kissing her all I could think of was you.” Richie cried softly into Eddie’s neck. “I was wishin’ it was you.”

Eddie froze. He couldn’t have heard that right, no way.

“I want to call you my baby, ‘and hold your hand, ‘n stick my tongue down your throat even tho you’re gonna talk ‘bout germs ‘n shit. I love you, I’ave since we were kids. You’re just tooooo damn cute, Eds.”

“Richie.” Eddie tried to push the stabbing pain in his chest down as he gently backed away to guide his friend to sit on the bed. “You’re really out of it; you don’t know what you’re saying-”

“I’ve been in love with you forever! I love the way you care ‘bout my health, you’re the only one who actually gives a shit, Eds. Ya’know that? Nobody gives a rats ass if I’m alive or dead but you! ‘N fucking shit Imma gonna quit smoking jus cause you told me too, cause I’d do anything for you.”

Eddie felt the tears collect in his eyes.

Richie didn't seem to notice as he continued, not always the most articulately as he was three sheets to the wind. “You’re like the bravest person I know Eddie cause you feel shit! You let yourself feel all the things we go through.  ‘N even though your mom has screwed with your head you are so strong… not physically you are tiny and just fucking cute when you get angry but like… fuck emotionally strong. You are no delicate flower, no sir-ie. Like Bill, Mike, Ben- all us Losers we don’t talk about any of the fucked up shit we live through… I hafta get wasted to tell you how much I love you. Oh god do I love you-”

The tears were falling down Eddie’s face wildly now. Why did Richie always have to screw around with him like this? Did Trashmouth think this was a joke?

“My mom was so proud tonight, of me. She told me ‘to have fun on my date’ like a regular fucking mom is supposed to. She was so happy to think for once I wasn’t a queer. ‘N for a minute I wanted that too, to not be in love with you cause you’re my best friend but... I just want you Eddie Spaghetti. It’ll always be just you. Not that you’d ever want a stupid bum like me...When I got back home, my dad didn’t say anything but he… he smiled at me, Eddie. For what? Cause he thinks I’m not gay anymore? That I’ve been cured? So all I could think of was ‘ I needed a drink’, which was easy because there are bottles everywhere in my house. I didn’t want to feel-I- I drank too much… shit am I mom?”

“No Richie!” Eddie seemed to click back into reality. “You’re nothing like your mom. Ever. And you are not a bum; you’re smart, funny, and the best friend anyone could ask for so don’t you ever think otherwise.”

Richie blushed as he gapped at Eddie in awe before a slow smile crossed his face. Then like lightning Richie was connecting their lips. And Eddie sat there unmoving for a minute before his eyes seemed to close all on their own. Richie’s lips were soft but chapped, the taller boy reached out to cradle Eddie’s face in his hands, like he really did love him. Like Richie wanted to keep Eddie close. Eddie felt something in his chest bubble as his brain went on autopilot, his head wrapped around the ceiling as if he was the one who was drunk. This didn’t feel real; it was just another dream and Eddie was watching himself kiss Richie from across the room. Eddie watched himself lean in closer, his nose bumping with Richie's before the other boy tilted his face in adjustment. Their faces were so close that Eddie's eye lashes brushed up against the frames of Richie's glasses. Eddie, in his dream, melted into the kiss and Richie hummed into the smaller boy’s mouth.

A switch seemed to flip as Eddie came to taste the whiskey on those lips. Eddie had to rip himself away, Richie was still cradling his face and chased his lips. Eddie placed his hands back onto Richie’s shoulders, the hypochondriac’s heart shattering as he firmly kept Richie away.  

Richie opened his mouth like he wanted to say something when suddenly he clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders heaving. Richie sprang up from the bed scrambling over vomiting in the garbage can. Eddie followed behind and kept Richie’s curls out of his face.

“Good, Richie. Let it out, you’ll feel better now.” Eddie cooed, silently thanking every god that Richie hadn't puked in his mouth (some first kiss that would be) and that Eddie had lined the wicker waste basket with an easy to dispose of plastic bag. After a minute Richie finished so Eddie guided his friend back to the bed to lie him down. “I’m gonna get you some water and change out the garbage bag, I’ll leave the can here so if you feel sick again you try to throw up in the basket, alright?”

Richie groaned which Eddie took as an agreement.

Eddie left the room, finally able to wipe the tears that ghosted his cheeks.

 

~~~

Stan was going to kill Richie when he found him.

It was almost one in the morning and Stan was wandering around Derry trying to find his intoxicated friend. Richie was so noisy so it shouldn’t have been too difficult, right? Wrong. No, the loud mouthed boy was nowhere to be found! Why is it that Trashmouth is always pestering you but the second you actually need to find him he’s poof gone.

“Here Richie, Richie! I’ve got um… quarters for the arcade!” Stan attempted to entice, feeling utterly ridiculous. _Think Stan! Where would Richie go… Eureka!_ So simple Stan couldn’t think of why he hadn’t realized earlier. Stan set off running only to find his hypothesis was correct; Stan’s stolen bike was disregarded on the Kaspbrak lawn. Stan tip toed over to the side of the house noticing that Eddie’s window was open and that a dirty footprint from a converse shoe adorned the otherwise immaculate siding of the house.

Stan slipped over, when he got to the window he saw Eddie sitting stretched out on his bed with an unconscious Richie pinned to the shorter boy’s chest. Stan knocked at the window, Eddie turned with a flash of fear in his watery eyes before he relaxed and nodded for Stan to enter.

“My room seems to be popular tonight.” Eddie joked but it fell flat. The smaller teen looked down to Richie’s sleeping face resting over his heart, brushing the bangs out of the intoxicated boy’s face then tentatively removing Richie’s glasses.

“Sorry Eddie, I don’t know what got into Richie tonight. I found him at the Barrens but he stole my bike and rode off. He uh- didn’t do anything stupid did he?”

“No, he just fucked with me before he passed out.”

“What did he do?” Stan felt something electric run through him: _please tell me Richie didn’t confess his undying love or some shit-_

“He- uh… told me he was in love with me? Ridiculous right?” Eddie answered wetly, he let out a sniffle before looking at the ceiling. Stan read somewhere once that looking up can help stop someone from crying. “Drunk Richie is damn hilarious.”

 _Oh god, these idiots._ Stan bit his lip to restrain himself from going over there and spilling to Eddie that Richie was in fact in very love with him and had been in love with him for years. But it wasn’t Stan’s place to out Richie… even if Richie sort of outed himself first. Richie was drunk, he was hardly thinking clearly and wouldn’t want his biggest secret revealed let alone by Stan; who had promised to keep this private all those years ago. Stan settled for “Are you gonna tell Richie about his drunk humour?”

“No,” Eddie sighed. “He’ll probably get all weird about it. Besides, judging by how he was acting tonight I’m assuming he’s drunk enough to not remember anything in the morning, probably better that way.”

Stan nodded.

“Hey can you go over to the closet? I think I’ve got a few of Richie’s sweatshirts and a pair of pajama pants in there, he’s probably really uncomfortable.”

Stan couldn’t help looking at Eddie’s heartbroken face and thinking that Richie deserved to spend a night sleeping in uncomfortable clothes as well as the killer hangover that would be expected tomorrow. Nevertheless, Stan got the PJs anyways (utterly unphased that there was actually a collection of Richie’s garments in the closet) and helped maneuver Richie so that Eddie could get him clothed into better sleeping attire.  

 

Richie whined while in an upright position, only settling when he was situated back onto Eddie chest where he nestled back down. Richie took a deep inhale of Eddie’s smell, the drunk teen actually gave a small smile in his sleep before he blacked out again.

“Want me to stay awhile? Tag team handling this piss drunk ass hat?” Stan couldn’t help but feel frustrated towards Richie, which seemed a little unfair… Richie was acting out of emotional distress after all. Regardless, Stan was going to rip Richie a new one tomorrow morning. A full on plan of making obnoxious noises continuously while Richie struggled with his hangover came to mind. Stan was going to torture his friend into never stupidly turning to alcohol for his problems ever again.

“No that’s okay.” Eddie forced a flimsy smile. Stan was cursing himself for not finding Richie sooner, maybe he could have stopped this. “You probably should be getting home here.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.” Stan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“See you, Stan” Eddie waved weakly.

Stan turned and snuck back out of the window, stealing one last look as Eddie caressed Richie’s cheek and turned out the bed side light. Stan went to collect his bike hurriedly, not wanting to listen as Eddie started to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahahahhahhahahahhahahahha - Mythicalowlsociety


	9. Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy... the angst got heavy back there... I am the worst mom to my gay sons this I know. I'm evil. It was a dark time last week, and I sort of just... wrote angst and took it really far??? We're almost through this though. Think happy thoughts, y'all. Think happy thoughts.

Next time was when everything was different.

 

It might not seem like it at a glance, but Eddie was different. Which meant that Richie’s world rested on a scale someone had tipped, sliding into the unknown. Eddie, for the most part, hadn’t acted different unless you were someone who paid attention (like Richie). Eddie maintained his routinely germaphobic antics, still had sassy come backs, and still sported a fanny pack. Truthfully there wasn't anything too different about Eddie himself, it was more how Eddie interacted with others; specifically Richie. Nowadays there would be this moment where Eddie would tense as Richie touched him in anyway, didn't matter if it was linking their arms or pinching his cheeks. Eddie would seize up as if Richie was about to smack him before the shorter boy would relax (but only slightly) if Eddie didn't opt to run away from physical contact all together. Not only that but Eddie seemed anxious if contact with Richie lingered for too long. Often when Richie would throw his arm around Eddie the smaller boy would start to fiddle with his fanny pack with nerves.

 

_Richie didn’t want to open his eyes knowing full damn well that the room he was in brightly lit as light seemed to stream through his closed eyelids. His head was pounding like a three dozen rhinos were line dancing on his brain. His throat was dry, tongue like sandpaper with the distinct lingering taste of vomit and Jack Daniels, and his stomach clenched. He let out a groan but that seemed to make everything worse, throat screaming for water._

_Richie buried his face into the pillow to try and blot out the sun. But something was wrong, the pillow was plump unlike Richie’s own beaten down foam chuck. And another thing the smell was too comforting to come from the Tozier house… vanilla, fresh linen, and antiseptic… Eddie…_

_That had Richie’s eyes flying open only to wince and shut them again._

_Fuck. The sun was an evil fiery ball of death._

_Richie knew he needed to wake up, especially if he was in Eddie’s room, begrudgingly he braced himself; one.. two … three… Richie cracked open his eyes slowly to find that he was in fact tucked into Eddie’s bed but the boy in question was nowhere to be found, most likely eating breakfast with Mrs. Kaspbrak._

_Richie turned over to the side table with his hands over his eyes, being blind without his glasses did nothing to stop that goddamn light. He found his glasses with a cup of water and tylenol on the night stand. A little note was left:_

_Morning Einstein,_

_Stay quiet. Mom doesn’t know you’re here and you probably don’t want her yelling cause you most certainly have a hangover. But don’t think you’re off the hook because you are in for an earful; we’re going to talk about your idiotic decision to get drunk when I get back from breakfast, ass wipe. - Eddie_

 

_Richie would have smiled if he didn’t feel like his entire body was one big bruise. He slugged back the water and pills obediently before easing back onto the bed. He’d sleep until Eddie came back…_

 

“Move over, baby boy!” Richie boomed as he slid next to Eddie at the lunch table, throwing his arm around Eddie’s narrow shoulders in one smooth swoop. It was Wednesday after the horrid affair of Richie's drinking and Richie prayed silently that Eddie would be over this whole "no touchy" phase. Lucky for Tozier, Eddie just wrinkled his nose at being called "baby boy" and hadn't tensed yet. 

“Richie how many times were you dropped as an infant?” Eddie sassed.

“That’s no way to respect your old man, Eddie spaghetti!” Richie lowered his voice into a stereotypical manly dad voice.

“Old man? You’re only three months older, Trashmouth!” Eddie retorted.

Richie smirked. “No but things are getting pretty serious between me and your mom, Eds. You’re gonna have to start calling me pops, father, sir, padre; you can have your pick. You could even call me daddy if you prefer, but personally I think that would be a little-”

“Gross!” Eddie elbowed Richie in the ribs as he ducked back out from Richie’s arm. “And stop calling me Eds!”

Richie just burst out laughing as his Eddie Spaghetti’s complexion looked as red as tomato sauce. The glare the asthmatic boy wore could have made Satan sweat but it only made Richie crack up more. Eddie was so delectable when he was flustered.

 

_Richie and Eddie had to walk to school since Richie didn’t have his bike. The walk was quiet and more than a little awkward. Richie, who was moments away from throwing himself into traffic if it meant his head would stop pounding, was uncharacteristically silent as he observed Eddie from the behind the pair of sunglasses he jammed on his nose over his regular prescription lenses._

_Eddie looked antsy, he kept adjusting the straps on his back pack or toying with the zipper on his fanny pack. Consensus; Eddie was keeping something from Richie._

_“Okay so…. Eddie… did I,” Richie paused to bite his lip. “Did I do anything dumb last night?”_

_Eddie paused. The second felt like a lifetime, suddenly Richie felt really hot; getting hit by a bus seemed like a pretty good alternative to this conversation right about now._

_“No you just talked about your date with Pamela before you blew junks, in the garbage can thankfully, and then you passed out.”_

_“That’s it?” Richie felt his brows furrow, something felt off but Richie couldn’t remember anything from yesterday..._

_“Yep.” Eddie confirmed. He put his hand on Richie’s elbow, the contact burned into Richie’s skin as he stopped walking. “Was there a reason that you got drunk yesterday?”_

_Richie held in a grimace, he still remember the way his dad smiled at him when he saw the Pamela’s lipstick stains on the corner of Richie’s mouth. Yay! Mr. Tozier’s only son was no longer a faggot, somebody get out the confetti and fireworks! “I just… had some troubles with my parents.”_

_Eddie nodded, he still had his hand on Richie’s arm and his thumb rubbed in a little circle. Richie swallowed thickly knowing full well that Eddie was about to ask: “Do you want to-”_

_“Eddie, I’m dying!” Richie groaned dramatically. “It feels like vultures are picking at my- brain thing- fuck I can’t think right now! Can we talk about this later? I’m begging for mercy, please.”_

_“Fine.” Eddie huffed. “But you need to start taking care of yourself, idiot.”_

_“Awww but I like it when you make a fuss, Eds.”_

_“Hangover death or not, call me Eds one more time and I’ll clobber you.”_

 

Stan, Bill, and Mike (who was able to visit during lunch hour now that the harvest was over) were talking about some Radiohead song while Eddie and Ben were discussing postmodern American poetry or some shit. Richie felt himself tuning out of the conversations at the table, he felt jittery and his leg couldn’t seem to stop bouncing under the table.

Good ol’ quiet Ben was actually having a lively rant about how the postmodern poetry was actually influenced by some dead person or something when Eddie gave Richie a side glance.

Eddie looked over and slid Richie’s cafeteria coffee cup away. “No more caffeine for you today.”

“Come on! That’s my first and only cup.” Richie confessed.

“Then why are you practically levitating?”

“I just really want a cigarette.”

“Lunch isn’t over yet," Eddie folded his arms over his chest. The lecture was coming  "You can go fill your lungs with tar and go die of lung cancer if you want-”

“I’m try’na quit.”

Eddie blinked, mouth falling open into a soft “o” shape. Something about his face was off, like Eddie had a flash from the past. “You’re quitting?”

“Yeah, guess those pictures you showed me of that chain smoker’s disgusting black lungs and the babies born with emphysema finally broke me. Plus if I’m gonna live forever and be the first DJ on Earth’s future colony on Mars then I’ve gotta start shaping up a little.” 

The smile Eddie gave him made the lack of nicotine so worth it. Eddie’s grin was blinding, eyes shining with warmth with the pretty crinkles around the corners. Oh god Richie’s heart eyes must be showing, magnified by his glasses. Then Richie’s heart did back flips as Eddie genuinely stated: “I’m proud of you.”

It was like a siren was going off in Richie's head: Mayday! Mayday! Help! SOS! Somebody get Richie Tozier a defibrillator stat as his heart has stopped, no doubt a consequence from all those cardiac backflips.  

“Thanks Eds.” Richie gave a lopsided smile back praying to god his cheeks weren’t pink, they were. Fuck.

“You ruined the moment, dick head.” Eddie feigned annoyance bumping shoulders with Richie before he turned back to Ben to continue the conversation.

Richie just chuckled as he swiped his coffee back.

Meanwhile at the other side of the table the other Losers were analyzing the way Richie had his lips turned up hidden behind sips of coffee. Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier was back, things looking more normal than it had in a week. Hell, Eddie had managed to get corralled again under Richie’s left arm, which honestly was where Eddie was meant to be. The best part was the younger boy hadn't pushed away from the contact so Richie could finally ease back into conversation, nicotine and awkwardness forgotten.

Mike poked Richie’s side “Yo Richie, Bon Jovi is overrated!”

“FIGHT ME, MIKE!!!” Richie bellowed.

They talked about that for a while; “Living on a Prayer and It’s my life? Those are iconic, Mike! Like how can you sit here and say this to my face?”

Somewhere in the conversation Richie must have gotten his lighter out of his pocket and was playing with it without realizing. Eddie reached out and took it.

“I got some gum in my locker, would that help?” Eddie asked as he stashed Richie’s lighter in his fanny pack.

“My how thoughtful of you!” Richie sing-songed in his best southern belle.

“Excuse me Ben,” Eddie exited determined to insure Richie didn’t feel the need to smoke at all.

“So as I was saying, you only own three cassettes and one of them is your grandfather’s harmonica/banjo duets so you can hardly sit here like some kind of idiot and try to tell me that-”

Richie was cut off as someone gave his cheek a big smooch and plopped down next to him. Richie turned expecting to see Eddie back with the gum only to find it was Pamela Goldbloom. Which was right; Eddie would never voluntarily kiss Richie so Richie shouldn’t have anticipated (hoped) it would have been his best friend who showed him such blatant affection. Richie swallowed his disappointment with a shaky smile. “Hey Pam.”

“Hey Richie, there you are! I thought you were avoiding me!” Pam pouted as she grabbed Richie’s arm and draped it over her shoulders.

Okay this was just wrong.

Everything about this situation made Richie’s skin crawl, having his arm around Pam while the girl sat in Eddie’s spot felt like... adultry, cheating, fornication, more synonyms for cheating. Which was stupid because Richie was dating Pamela but the effect was the same. Richie’s left arm was reserved for Eddie, it always had been and always would be (affection drought or not).

“No just kicking back with friends.” Riche explained.

“Right this is your crew! Hi I’m Pamela” Pamela waved excitedly. Everyone smiled and introduced themselves politely but Pamela didn’t seem to notice as she focused on Richie.

“Why haven’t you called?”

“Oh I was just really busy- Mr. Harvey has been laying out the homework like crazy lately.” Richie lied. “And I have this huge lab for biology coming up so I’ve been doing a bunch of studying with-”

Eddie slid onto the opposite side of the table; the only open spot beside Bill. He was so far away now that Richie had to contain a whine. Eddie tossed the gum to Richie.

Somewhere far away Trashmouth could hear Eddie introduce himself. However, Richie wasn’t listening as Pamela extended her hand and Eddie shook it apprehensively. Richie took intrest in the gum, not able to withstand the thought that Pamela had replaced Eddie. 

Pamela went back to talking, she was saying something about going to see another movie on Friday, some chick flick with Meg Ryan, but Richie was far away. The dark haired teen was preoccupied with analyzing the crease in between Eddie’s brow as the neat freak struggled to reach across the table for his carrot sticks. Richie helped hand the vegetables over to Eds as his arms were too short, seeing as Eddie was all the way across the table now.

Cause Pamela was in Eddie’s goddamn spot.

Pamela asked “Whatcha think?”

Richie bolted back into reality. Right, boyfriend stuff. “Friday? Yeah sure that should be fine.”

Eddie looked down at his food, munching silently as Ben kick started onto a new literary rant.  

Pamela beamed “Great!”

With that the bell rang. Pamela gave Richie another wet cheek kiss, her cotton candy flavored lip gloss smearing everywhere before she skipped off to class.

“Mwah Mwah Mwah!” Mike teased giving kissing sounds, lips puckered towards Richie. “

You g-got-t-t a little something all over-r  your face, Tra-Trashmouth.” Bill cheekily said. 

"That's right, the honeys can't resist me!" Richie bragged as he gave his friends good natured shoves. Bill, Mike and Ben continued down the hall laughing off leaving just Stan, Eddie, and Richie to straggle off to class. “Hey Eddie, do you have one of those-”

“Gotcha covered.” Eddie notified with a wet wipe at the ready.

“Tank yer, Laddie!” Richie’s bleated. Man his Irish needed some work, he thought as he accepted the wet wipe, scrubbing at his temple.  

“You’re missing a bunch.” Eddie frowned. Richie moved to scrub lower but Eddie just gave a tsk,  stepping forward into the and grabbing the wet wipe back. Eddie’s hand came up to cup Richie’s face while the other swiped away the traces of Pamela from Richie’s cheeks. Eddie was so close that his breath fanned over Richie’s face, Tozier could see all different shades of brown and copper in the soft boy’s hair. The hand on his cheek felt warm, but not sweaty. Eddie’s hands were always smooth unlike Richie’s that were callused, sticky, and a little clammy. Richie had to restrain himself from leaning into Eddie’s palm. “There.”

Eddie caught Richie’s gaze, eyes expanding as he realized how short the distance in between them. Clearing his throat, Eddie took a step back. “S-see ya around, Rich. Um bye.” Eddie practically stammered as he ducked his head and sped off down the corridor.

Okay… that was weird…

Richie stepped over to Stan who was perched across the hall by the water fountain. “Okay did I just enter the Twilight zone? Like Eddie’s acting weird, right?”

Stan started to sweat. “Umm… Eddie? Wierd? No! What do you mean?”

Curiouser and curiouser.

“Okay Stan cut the shit, what did I do?”

“You’re still breathing.” Stan snipped.

“I’m serious, Stanly. What did I do?”

 

_When they got to school Eddie and Stan shared a look, it lasted only half  a second. It was so short Richie wasn’t sure it happened at all._

_“Wow Rich, you are looking like a hot mess this morning.”_

_“That’s not what you’re mom was saying when I left her, Stanley.” Richie grumbled back, he kept the pair of shades on even after he entered the halls not wanting to expose his pupils to the LED lights. Richie stumbled over to his locker but as he turned his attention to the tiny numbers of his padlock (fuck why did they have to make them so small?) Richie caught sight of Stan and Eddie hugging from the corner of his eye. When he turned the two had already separated and were chatting, maybe Richie was hallucinating._

_Still, Richie was missing something that felt important. The thought was killed however as Stan reached into his pocket and produced an air horn. The curly haired teen shook the canister then let an obnoxious BWAAAAAAA!!! out into the hall that had Richie keeling over with his hands over his ears._

_“Jackass!”_

_“That’s what you get for getting shit faced, mother fucker!”_

 

“I’m not sure you want to know.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. 

Richie’s stomach dropped down to the floor. “Fuck, well I definitely do now!”

“You… um may have… told Eddie you loved him when you were drunk.”

“WHAT?!” Richie felt the world collapse, scales tipped beyond reprieve. “Wait how do you know about this any-”

“I found you first, I went bird watching late last Thursday and you showed up at the Barrens, totally trashed. You ended up stealing my bike and driving to Eddie’s, by the time I figured out where you’d gone you had already let the cat out the bag.”

“FUCK!!!” Richie felt his chest tighten up. The sky was falling, the room was spinning, and the floor was crumbling around him. He felt pure pain seized in his chest on a full blown anxiety attack settled in.

“Hey Richie, breath” Stan instructed as he crouched down beside Richie, the gangly boy didn’t even recall falling over but he was; squeezed into the fetal position with his breaths coming out in short gasps. “Eddie’s not gonna say anything. Nothing changes unless you want it to.”

Unless he wanted it to… Richie’s head felt too heavy.

“Come on Richie, breath in and breath out.” Stan coached until eventually Richie’s respiration stabilized.

“Eddie’s known for a week?” Richie sputtered.

“Yeah. He’s been handling it pretty well-”

“He’s been avoiding my touch like I’m the embodiment of e coli.”

“He’s processing, but I honestly think there is nothing you could do that would make Eddie ever stop speaking to you. Remember the underwear incident in gr. 5? If anybody else put pepper flakes in Eddie’s briefs he’d never speak to them again! Eddie holds you to a different standard than the rest of us. You’re his best friend.”

“Right.” Richie nodded, brain still buzzing. Eddie didn’t hate him, somehow. “How- how did Eddie take it that night…”

Stan bit his lip. Stan looked conflicted, conflicted wasn’t good.  “He was surprised.”

“Yeah no shit, but was he angry with me?”

“No! At you? Never.” Stan continued but he was looking a little exasperated like he was wanting really badly to spill something but had already sworn an oath to keep that something hidden. “He was a little upset-”

“How upset? Define upset?!”

Stan shrugged. “He thought you were joking around with him.”

Richie’s shoulders dropped. Relief and disappointment flooded in simultaneously, a paradox inside of Richie’s chest. Relief because if Eddie thought it was a joke then Richie had a fighting chance at maintaining their friendship and straightening out this awkward patch. Trashmouth and Eds; the dynamic duo reunited! The touches could go back to being comforting instead of awkward, the stabs of pain every time Eddie backed away from hand holding would dissolve. However, there was also disappointment settling in Richie’s chest. Nothing would be different; this song and dance would continue. The pining, the sleep deprivation, the heart clenches would resume just as always. God sometimes Eddie was so close that Richie felt like he was on fire, painfully burning to death from the want he had piled in his chest. Nothing would change for the worse, but nothing could change for the better.

A rock and hard place.

Did he gamble his relationship with Eddie? Would it be worth the chance that Eddie never spoke to him again? God nothing could be worse than that; Richie would take a never ending battle against Pennywise while hungover for all eternity over losing Eddie.

_Eddie holds you to a different standard than the rest of us. You’re his best friend._

_Nothing changes unless you want it to._

“Are you okay, Rich?”

“Yeah.” Richie breathed. “Just a lot at once.”

“You should tell him, Eddie I mean.” Stan advised. “Like I said, it’s impossible for Eddie to hate you.”

“We should get to class.” Richie deflected. But think about it he would. Richie would think about confessing for the rest of the day; through history class and even on the way back to his house. God, during english class Richie even debated writing sappy poetry for his Eddie Spaghetti.

_Roses are Red_

_Violets are blue_

_You’re mom is hot_

_But not as hot as you._

Richie used his better judgement and decided not to give Eddie that poem but he carried it with him as he biked home with everyone else. Maybe Eddie would hate him if he knew the feelings were real…

The note seemed to weighed a thousand pounds.

Eddie biked alongside Ben  (avoiding Richie no doubt). The asthmatic barely stuttering a “B-bye” out to the loud mouthed teen as he turned off to his house. Richie didn’t think he’d ever seen Eddie Spaghetti peddle faster towards the Kaspbrak residence.  

Yeah, Richie was gonna have to think about how everything was different now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is more or less gearing up for bigger things? We know somebody is gonna have to confess their undying love but will it be soon? Tune for the next update, folks!
> 
> I gotta say I've been having these sort of episodes of drama in this work which I really didn't intend for; this was just gonna be fluffy/angsty one shot collection but this kinda story arch thing just keeps happening??? I don't know how or why this keeps occurring, it's more or less just where I'm at in life I guess? Apologies. As always feel free to let me know if there are any errors in my writing. I know my grammar is horrible. Thank you all - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	10. Eddie, Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, trigger warning for some homophobic slurs and abusive parents (Richie's mom is THE WORST)

 

Another week of awkwardness flies by in which time Richie decided to break things off with Pamela. They went on their Friday movie date and another on Monday but as Pamela decided to get more handsy Richie had to call a quits. Everything felt wrong inside of Richie, it didn’t feel right to lead her on like this. Tozier took Pamela out for a nice dinner with a very polite “It’s not you, it’s me” breakup speech prepared (Richie even ran it by Bev over the phone to make sure that it was sensitive enough).

Nevertheless, Pamela didn’t take the rejection too well, she made a bit of a scene at the restaurant sobbing into her chicken cutlet. “There’s somebody else, isn’t there?”

“No I just think we’d both be better off-”

“Bullshit!” Pamela wailed. “Who is she? What does she have that I don’t? Is she prettier?”

Well she had Richie there, in Richie’s mind not even Julia Roberts could compete with Eds. “There is no other girl-”

“Liar!” Pamela screeched getting up and splashing her diet coke right in Richie’s face. “I never want to see you again!”

Well that took care of one thing.

But fixing things with Eddie was an entirely different matter. It was already Thursday and so far the day was a blur (god why was shit always happening on Thursdays? What the hell universe? Why the scheduled torment???). The excitement of Richie deciding to quit smoking seemed to wear off, although the smaller boy was still watching like a hawk with a packet of gum on standby in case Richie had any urges. But besides that Eddie was more distant than before, if possible. Before Eddie was pretending everything was fine but was just skittish around Richie.

Now Eddie didn't hide his discomfort at all. During lunch the brunette elected to sit in between Stan and Bill across the table, not quite as far away from Richie as possible but the gesture was certainly there. And during biology Eddie barely said a word lest it was lab report related. Instead the younger boy seemed to zone out a lot, Mrs. Walters called his name five times to come answer a question on the board but Eddie didn't respond until Richie poked his cheek which had the other boy thrashing quite comically backward off his stool and tumbling onto the floor. Eddie answered the question sheepishly and asked if he could go to the washroom, he didn't return to class. After school the fanny pack clad boy nose dived for the bike racks and took off without saying goodbye to anyone. Richie wasn't sure he could take much more of this, it wasn't fair; Eddie and him were finally back to some semblance of normalcy last week but then the whole Pamela's lipstick thing happened and now Richie was in the dog house, yet again.

 

So Richie decided to do something about it.

His master plan was? Comic book night!!! That would lure Eddie out to a comfortable social environment and WHAM; Richie was gonna stick to Eds' side until Eddie Spaghetti was talking again. Richie was confident in his plan, he had several of Eddie's old comic books in his possession in addition to numerous new issues of the Fantastic Four which Eddie was dying to read. It was the perfect trap, Eddie hadn't been allowed in the comic book store for two months after there was a faulty bed bug rumour so he was probably desperate to read those comics, even desperate enough to talk to Richie. Perfect! 

 

 ~

Richie took a deep breath and grabbed the phone; time to swing the plan into action. He called up Bill and Mike first, Tozier liked to think he had some pride, before he ringed Eddie.

“Hello?” Eddie answered.

“Hiya Eds!” Richie beamed at his good fortune.

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie objected.

Richie just grinned. Some things never change.“Yeah, yeah. Listen, I was thinking tonight the Losers could do a comic book trade at the Barrens, you in?” Richie twirled the curly-Q telephone cord in his hands. He could picture Eds on the other end of the line biting his lip.

“Comic books?” Eddie asked meekly.

Richie let out a fist pump. He knew he had Eddie now.

“Yep, I thought we could return some of the issues we all borrowed from each other and swap them out for new ones.” Richie elaborated. 

“Who’s all coming?”

Richie’s heart thudded at that, of course it wouldn’t be enough if it was just himself. No, Eddie needed a chaperone now.

“Um… Mike and Bill are already coming but I still have to phone Ben and Stan, though I can almost certainly bet Ben wants Bill’s new Superman comic so he’ll come. Stan on the other hand mentioned something about his dad at the synagogue but I’m sure he will try everything to get out of-”

“Okay, sounds great. What time?”

“Seven.” Richie breathed trying really hard not to ramble more, he was twisting telephone cord with a python grip now. Eddie was distant on the phone, and oh god what if Mike had those issues of Fantastic four? Eddie might never speak to Richie ever again! Richie could not and would not accept this as the new norm.

In the background Richie could hear Mrs. Kaspbrak get up from her chair. Eddie rushed out an “Alright, see you there.”

“Catch you on the-” The line dropped. “Flip side.” Richie finished to no one as he put the phone back on the hook.

~

Eddie was the last to show up at the Barrens with his backpack stuffed with comic books. His hair flows in the breeze and his nose is a pretty pink from the chill, Richie sucks in a breath. Here we go…

“Sorry guys I only have thirty minutes or else my mom is gonna drive down here herself and get me. Mother son gameshow bonding night and Wheel of Fortune starts at quarter to 8.” Eddie grumbled wasting no time in chit chat before he displays all the different comics he brought. The Losers’ seat themselves in a circle and go around handing back all the different graphic novels they have lent each other over the past few months, comic books were expensive so the Losers generally had a sort of rotation sharing system. Richie, Ben, and Mike collected Marvel comics while Stan, Bill, and Eddie gathered D.C. so that they could pool their spoils together and save more money for the arcade or movie rentals.

Amazingly enough Eddie sat next to Richie during the trade off, although to be fair most of the comics Eddie had to return were in fact Richie’s and vice versa.

Eddie started by putting off asking for that Fantastic four, electing to trade first with Ben and Bill but Richie knew to wait it out. The minutes dragged on and Eddie started to twitch, he got this look on his face like he was bracing himself before he came around “Hey Rich, have you got the-”

“Right here, Eddie my boy.” Richie smiled waving the issue of Fantastic Four around in the air.  “It’s even in mint condition.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” Eddie proclaimed reaching to snatch up the comic.

Richie wasn’t having that and jerked the comic out of Eddie’s reach. “Not so fast, Eddie Spaghetti! I'll trade for your copy of The Watchman!”

“What? You’ve read it like a 250 times!” Eddie looked bewildered.

“Hey, I like the Watchman!” Richie defended. “It’s a good story!”

“250 time’s, Richie.” Eddie stressed, his eyes shining with humour, as he dug through his stack of comics to reveal the well worn copy. “You’ve read that thing so much it’s basically yours.”

“You remembered to bring it!” Richie cheered.

Eddie punched Richie’s arm affectionately. He actually touched him without Richie engaging the contact first. “Yeah well I knew somebody was going to ask for it, now give me that Fantastic Four!”

This continued for a while with Richie and Eddie bartering for eachothers comics, “Richie you already borrowed that and lost the sleeve, if I give it to you now then you’ll probably get like cheese sauce on it or something!”

“Fine then take the plastic off the Batman comic and give me your Justice League.” Richie reasoned. 

Eddie gagged at the thought. “No Mike wants this Batman and he lives on a farm. He handles sheep shit, no way in hell am I lending this to him without the plastic!”

Richie groaned. “Then take the plastic off Fantastic Four, you’re not gonna get shit or cheese sauce on it.”

“I like having the plastic! It will help keep the corners from getting bent when I take it home.” Eddie folded his arms. Eddie had migrated closers during the trade off to look at Richie’s collection, he was pressed against Richie’s side just like always. And by god did it feel good.

 “Here!” Stan huffed passing Richie the plastic sleeve off his Iron Man. “Just stop the bickering, PLEASE.” Complaints aside Stan gave Riche an encouraging smile all the same. Still it got Richie thinking about changes again, maybe the whole drunken confession was a lost opportunity...

“Thank you, Stan!” Eddie chimed but just then his wristwatch started to beep. “Fuck, gotta run.” He swapped comics with Mike quickly and gave Richie one last shove as they switched their own issues. “You better not get cheese sauce on my comics, Trashmouth or I will murder you.” Eddie quickly but neatly stuffed the comics into his bag and bid farewell.

“Hosta La vista, Baby!” Richie shouted after Eddie in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression and Eddie let loose a giggle before he biked over the hill and out of view.

~

That was what Richie would define as a win, Eddie not only smiled at him but had an actual conversation PLUS the shoves were definitely a sign in the right direction. Not to mention Richie now got to mull over his triumph with his favourite graphic novel the Watchman. The evening was such as jackpot how could anything go wrong? 

But it was still Thursday so things naturally had to go to shit. 

“You look happy!” Mrs. Tozier drunkenly smiles as Richie enters the house. Maggie Tozier sits in her regular spot on the sofa with a bottle slanted dangerously close to tipping in her hand. Tequila, Richie observed, mom must be feeling really happy tonight. “Were you with dat pretty girl, was ‘er name? Pamela? She seems very nice.”

“No mom, we broke up a few days ago.” Richie moves slowly putting his bag down by the door making no sudden movements, Mrs. Tozier is like a jungle cat who could pounce at any moment. 

“Oh,” She blinks but then the smile comes back, teeth a sickly yellow color. “Then who were you with? Is Richie a stud now? You Tozier boys, heartbreakers the lot of you!”  

“Nope, just out with friends.” The second the words leave Richie’s mouth he regrets them.

His mother’s face hardens, her face goes from dopey to disdain in seconds. “You mean _that_ boy?”

“Lots of boys, not just-” somehow this was making things worse.

“Richard I thought we talked bout this-” Maggie Tozier slurs with her grip tightening on the bottle. “I don’t want you with _him._ No, as long as you live in this house you will follow the rules. No son of mine is a faggot, Richard and that boy is- _”_

“Is my best friend,” Richie turns angry. He’s swallowed back the resentment for years. Does his mom give a shit about him? No. She cares that he’s not a queer but other than that Richie can’t think of a time his mother was there for him. How many times growing up did Richie pinch snacks from Bill or Eddie’s house because there was no groceries back home, how many times has Eddie been the one to make Richie’s doctors appointments, how many nights had Richie bounced around from one loser’s house to the next because he couldn’t stand being home only to eventually return and have his parents not even notice his absence? “And he means more to be than anything.”

“Unacceptable!” His mother screamed.

Richie stood his ground. His mother narrowed her eyes threateningly but Richie didn’t bat an eye. In fact, Richie stood tall without flinch even when the blows started.

 ~

Richie’s running out of the house and looking at Eddie’s window in a blink of an swollen eye.  He’s knocking frantically at the glass, really not giving a shit if Mrs. K wakes up because every part of Richie’s body is burning and the only cure is a hug from Eddie right now.

Eddie rushes over with desperate shushing. The second the window is open Richie throws himself inside and crushes Eddie in a hug. The smaller boy winds his arms around Richie wordlessly with one hand reaching up to play with the dark curls at the back of Richie’s neck. The height difference is almost hilarious, Richie towers over Eddie but somehow their bodies go together like peanut butter and jelly.  

“Ow!” Eddie winces as he retracts his hand from Richie’s neck, there must be some smaller shards of glass still caught in the locks of hair. Eddie steps back, eyes bulging as a gasp escapes his lips at the sight of his friend. Eddie swarms Richie in an instant. “Oh my god, Richie are you okay? What happened to you?”

Richie doesn’t answer instead he just shuffles over to the desk chair and sits down so that Eddie can treat the gashes on his face. Vision blurs as Eddie removes his bent up glasses from his face to clean a cut below the left eye. “How did this even-”

“Her first slap knocked my glasses off, took me ages to find them on the floor afterwards.” Richie explained with gaze fixed on Eddie’s bleach white socks.

“My god.” Eddie whispers, his touches were so feather light and firm at the same time. The touches feeling foreign and familiar at the same time, like coming home after being somewhere different for a long time. Eddie gently swabbed away the dried blood and bandaged all the wounds. Even with the smeared vision, Richie could make out Eddie’s sweet face looking so concerned at him. “Fuck, I could try working something out with my mom, let you stay for a while, but I don’t she’d ever- on second thought we could talk to Bill maybe. Look, I know it’s your home and your family but-”

“I know. Thanks, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie let his lips twitch upward catching Eddie’s hands in his own. He runs his fingers over the thin scar on Eddie’s palm, the survivor scar, the mark that they all share. “I’ll be fine, she probably won’t even remember-”

“It’s not fine, idiot.” Eddie cuts Richie off by throwing his arms around him and Richie just pulls the small boy into his lap so that they can embrace easier, touch strike is officially over and physical contact is back. Eddie cries out into Richie’s shoulder in angry whispers. “She hurts you and I won’t- I can’t sit here anymore while she gets away with that! You don't deserve that Richie!” Eddie swallows, Richie’s heart thunders in his chest arms tightening around Eddie’s waist. Eddie backs up a little, looking down at Richie’s hands gripping his hips. A pink tint blooms across both boys faces. “I’m sorry; I’ve been avoiding you. I know it was wrong, which is absolutely on me. I was just going through- some stuff but it won't happen again - I swear on my copy of the Watchman! But if I ever decide to act like a total dumb-ass again you can still come to me about this stuff, cause despite my bullshit I will always care, Richie. You are so important to me, and I'm always glad to see you even if you are such a crude mother fucker.”

“Aww Eds, you know how to make a boy blush.” Richie leers but his voice comes out so breathy and soft that he barely recognizes it.

“Shut up, and don’t call me Eds.” Eddie responds warmly, without any semblance of annoyance, as he slips Richie’s glasses back onto his nose and slides off the injured teen’s lap. Richie instantly misses the other boy’s body heat but marvels in shock as Eddie grabs his comb and actually uses it on Richie to get the remainder of glass out of the dark tassels. Eddie is so careful as to not pull or have the brush snag in Richie’s rats nest. Richie smiles knowing full well that that comb is gonna be marinating in disinfectant all day tomorrow, Eddie never lets anyone so much as touch any of his hygiene products-

Stan’s words fire off in Richie’s head involuntarily: _Eddie holds you to a different standard than the rest of us._ Richie winces at the thought, ‘things are good now so shut up stupid brain!’

“I’m sorry! Did I pull too hard?” Eddie apologizes as he begins to back away. “Here you can-”

“No,” Riche blurts grabbing hold of Eddie’s wrist instinctively so the shorter boy stays close. When Eddie remains in the proximity Richie relaxes back into the chair. “No you’re the perfect hairdresser, Eddie Spaghetti. M’thinking is all.”  

“We both know nothing ever good comes from Richard Tozier thinking.” Eddie jabs fondly as he goes back to easing the shards out hair. “There, I think I got it all out. I’ll have to sweep this up so be careful, k?”

“My hero.” Richie gushes as Eddie crosses to the closet for Richie’s Pjs. Richie graciously accepts the pair of sweatpants and old ACDC shirt. He quickly changes with Eddie pointedly sweeping the glass on the floor. Brown orbs fixated on the mess to give Richie privacy while getting into sleepwear, cause Eddie is nothing if not chivalrous. “All clear, prince charming” Trashmouth dramatically whispering before making a show of swooning onto the bed.

Eddie laughs and pokes his side (not to hard in case his finger lands on a bruise). “Scoot your boot, Trashmouth.” Richie shuffles over to let Eddie onto his usual spot on the bed. “Do you want to sleep?”

“Nope." Riche said popping the 'p' sound as he sat up in bed.

“Me neither.” Eddie agrees. “Pass me that comic book.”

“As you wish.” Richie tries to sound like Westley from _The Prince’s Bride_ but it turns out sounding more like Oliver Twist, regardless it has Eddie smiling.

This is home, here in Eddie’s bed with Eddie’s breathing coming out in even intervals as Eddie reads. His best friend studies the comic with laser focus like the $1.75 rag was Shakespeare. It’s cute.

Richie grabs another one of the comics off the stack but he gets distracted just observing Eddie’s room. There is something so open about this space, maybe it’s because it’s just 100% Eddie. It’s how the comics that don't have as much as bent corner, the assortment of fanny packs lining coat hooks by the door (the one for everyday wear, one for special occasions, the floral fanny pack Bev mailed Eddie for Christmas last year, plus a spare in case anything should happen to the original { _because accidents happen, Richie!_ }), and the dresser that is mounted with  different types of isogel instead of colognes.

Every sound, texture, smells is just distinguishably Eddie. It’s almost sensory overload. It makes Richie’s head go fuzzy, makes him want to do something crazy like:

“I love you.” Comes tumbling out of Richie’s mouth before his teeth can bite it back.

Eddie shifts at the words but eyes stay trained on the comic, pretty mouth twisting into a frown “Ha ha, very funny-”

Richie shakes his head. “I love you.” he says again because apparently Richie wants to die of heart failure today. Suddenly it’s too much and Richie has to look away. He stares at the window wondering if maybe Eddie would kick him out... “Don’t be mad, please! I won’t-”

Eddie’s hand comes up to Richie’s cheek forcing the babbling boy to look Eddie in the eye. Brown eyes are wide and scanning for any sign this is a joke.  “You love me? You’re not just fucking with me?”

Richie only nods, not wanting to repeat those words again now that their friendship was down the drain. Tears collect in his eyes, why the fuck did Richie do this to himself? “Don’t worry about it though, I can sleep on the floor or if you want me to go that’s totally cool-”

Eddie’s lips taste like vaseline.

That’s the last thought as Richie’s mind goes blank and stars dot his vision.

Lips brush against Richie’s softly furthering the process of short circuiting Richie’s brain. 

Okay, Richie could have sworn his mom threw the tequila bottle next to his head but maybe her aim was spot on. Maybe this whole time Richie’s been dreaming cause holy fuck Eddie CANNOT be actually kissing him right now. No, Richie is destined to regain consciousness on the floor of his living room any second now. He stares dumbly onward at Eddie's face inches from his own, examining the way Eddie's long eyelashes fan over his cheeks. 

It’s only when hands plant themselves on Richie’s shoulders that Richie finally clues in. He closes his eyes and reaches for Eddie’s face to draw him in nearer but also tilt their faces so that Richie's giant lenses don’t catch anywhere. They give tender lingering kisses, neither one letting the other go very far for air. Richie can't stop once he's started, all those years of want finally paying off. The kisses aren't perfect, they bump noses constantly and are not coordinated at all but are the best and so full of love. Besides, Richie thinks to himself, they've got time to practice their technique because fuck knows Richie's gonna spend all his free time kissing Eddie now. Love pours into every cell of Richie's body. He wonders if it's possible to feel like your a firework exploding while melting into a wet puddle and glowing pure energy all at the same time. Because that's what it feels like, hell all those things but multiplied to infinity. The world has faded to Eddie's lips which as smooth as they always looked, Eddie's hands as they slide to the back of Richie's neck, Eddie's smell, Eddie's breaths, how soft Eddie's hair is as Richie repositions his hand to the back of Eddie's head, and the gentle hums into each others lips.

Oh yeah, at this Richie's heart is gonna give out at this rate but if Richie dies he'll die a happy man. Eventually both boys have to pull back when their love sick smiles interfere with the smooching.

“I love you too, Trashmouth.” Eddie exhales with their foreheads pressed together. "I have for so long."

"Me too, I've been in love with you forever, Eddie baby." Richie simpers and goes back in for another kiss.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOP THERE IT IS! We have officially traveled through the rough waters and broken into fluff, though I'm an angsty bean so there is gonna be future pain. But more fluff to numb that pain; my boys just need to be happy. Thank y'all in the comments section, always make my day. - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	11. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha I always intend for these to be short little one shot fics but as y'all have noticed that tends not to happen. Whoops, I wrote over 2850 words in this one... guess that's just gonna keep happening... Here it is folks the study fic nobody asked for.

The next time "baby" came up was Richie trying to distract his boyfriend...

Eddie and Richie were stationed in the library with books and papers spewed across a table.There’s this huge history test coming up so Eddie was making them study (even though the test is like five days away still), Richie really didn’t need to. He was a natural brainiac, much to Eddie’s annoyance, and had already remembered enough content to at least get a 75-80% without cracking his book open. No Richie was studying because it gave him an excuse to hang out with Eddie without the other losers. Not that they really needed an excuse but Stan’s raised eyebrows and the need to justify spending time with Eddie alone was just a little too much to handle all the time.  

They hadn’t told anyone yet. Neither Eddie nor Richie had talked to the other losers about the kiss and heartfelt love confession. This was relationship was new, it was nice to keep it to themselves for now.

Not to mention Eddie was terrified what the other Losers would think.

 

Only Bev and Richie knew that Eddie was gay, Eddie didn’t know how anybody else would take it. Richie explained that most of the losers were a safe bet. Stan knew about Richie’s crush on Eddie for _years_ and full heartedly support them, Bill had been friends with them forever and would no doubt accept them, Bev was already team “Reddie” all the way, but Ben and Mike were wild cards.

While Ben and Mike were part of the Losers for years they were still the ‘newbies’ of the group, they didn’t have the same childhood best friend thing that Stan-Bill-Richie-and Eddie had together.

Mike grew up on a farm with god fearing grandparents who liked good ol’ American fun like jamborees and apple pie eating contests. While Mike didn’t share a lot of his Grandfather’s philosophies he may have internalized some homophobia…

And Ben was just such as heterosexual in every meaning of the word. He was a little conservative and a little squeamish about stuff..

So Eddie and Richie were underground.

And it really wasn’t that different from the relationship they had before. Richie had always flirted with Eddie it just meant something different now. It was reciprocated. Plus nowadays Richie and Eddie got to sneak away to kiss in quiet corners, Bill’s abandoned kitchen during movie nights on false pretences; _“Richie if you make the popcorn you’ll blow something up! Here I’ll help, we don’t want to commit arsine here!”._

Richie smiled at the thought of Eddie pressed against the fridge, cheeks pink as Richie peppered his face with kisses.

     Eddie snapped his fingers in Richie’s face.

“Hmm?” Richie blinked jolting upright as he jumped back into focus.

“You didn’t listen to a word I just said did you, Trashmouth?" Eddie glared. 

“What no we were talking about” Richie blinked trying to recollect the last thing he remembered. “France.”  

“Right,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Okay then what was the motto of the rebels during the French Revolution?”

“Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité or Liberty, Equality, Fraternity in English” Richie recited with a smirk having memorized the phrase from class without so much as writing it down.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Eddie sputtered with envy and bewilderment in his pretty brown eyes.  

Richie leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. “I know, I know; I’m hot, funny, and smart! I’m a gift from God.”

“More like a curse from Satan,” Eddie recoiled.

“Ouch Eds, you’re breaking me heart! I swear my boyfriend is one big meanie.” Richie feigned hurt as he puffed out his lower lip in a pout, Richie barely contained a grin at Eddie’s flushed cheeks upon mentioning the word “boyfriend”. Richie fluttered his eyelashes as he let out a row of short fake sniffles. “Kiss it better?”  

“Hmmmm get through this unit and we’ll see.” Eddie teased.

“Quiz me.” Richie breathed out, kisses were motivation for Richie to do anything. Oh Lord Eddie's got Richie wrapped around his cute, manicured, germ-free finger. 

Eddie quirked a brow at Richie's eagerness. “The Women's March on Versailles happened in what year?”

“1789."  Richie answered effortlessly. 

“France was in great debt as Louis XVI-”

"-Sent troops, amo, and supplies to the Revolutionary War or America’s war of independence against Britain.” Richie interrupted cockily. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips as he took a second to think of a harder question. “Okay Mr. Show-off, the philosopher John Locke-”

“Was an English philosopher that influence the Age of Enlightenment, who believed in liberalism. He thought the mind was blank state at birth blah blah blah sense perception yada yada yada social contract and life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Is the unit done? We’ve been studying forever! Can we canoodle now?” Richie prattled wanting nothing more than to be able to smooch the pretty pout off Eddie's face.

Eddie crossed his arms trying to look pissed but there was something fondly annoyed in his eyes. “We have not been studying ‘forever’, hell we barely have been here for thirty minutes! We haven’t even covered Napoleon yet-”

“What’s to know? He was a short, angry, one armed man with power craze complex almost as big as my dick. Can we please, pretty please smooch now, baby?” Richie pleaded.

Eddie blinked, cheeks flushing.

 _Well isn’t that an interesting reaction._ Richie thought. _So Eddie likes my pet names after all._ Maybe Richie had some power over Eds… oh that poor poor boy was gonna be tortured later but right now Richie just wanted to kiss his boyfriend and he knew he couldn’t very well just lean across the table to do it. Getting Eddie to a quiet, secluded area of the library was at the utmost importance right now.

Eddie finally regained some composure. “You need to know more about Napoleon…”

Richie groaned, throwing his head onto the table and pounding his skull against the surface repeatedly.

“Cut it out Richie! You’re gonna crack your glasses, dipshit!” Eddie clucked flicking the top of Richie’s mop of hair. Richie spared him a pitiful look. Eddie rolled his eyes. “I was gonna say that they have this really good Napoleon book we should get from the history section-”

Oh! Quiet kissing corner!!! Richie lept from the chair so fast he gave himself whiplash but he snatched up Eddie’s hand and pulled him up. Richie basically drag the boy away. 

Eddie let out an amused laugh. “Wow why the change of heart?”

“Knowledge, Spaghetti Man! Is there anything more important in the whole world?”

Eddie just lets loose a snort as Richie beelined for the abandoned history section and practically threw the two of them against the shelves with such force the case teetered slightly but Richie could not give one flying fuck. He pinned the smaller boy against the book cases and was kissing him in record time. It’s not Richie’s fault that Eddie’s just too kissable.

Eddie smiles against his lips so Richie sprinkles little pecks on Eddie’s cheek and travels down to the smaller boy’s jaw line.

“Richie.” Eddie warned though there was still a smile on his face.

“Yes my love?” Richie played coy as he continued to work kisses up into Eddie’s temple.

“Hmmm.” Eddie hummed. Richie felt Eddie melt a little underneath his lips. Richie grinned. Oh this was just getting better and better, Eddie is never gonna hear the end of this. The asthmatic boy surged up on his tiptoes to plant his lips softly against the lanky teen’s once again. They still were new at the kissing but it wasn’t so clumsy as before, it’s sweet and tender as always. It made Richie’s head spin and his heart expand, toes curling in his shoes, everything was on fire as stars lit up behind Richie’s eyelids.

“Richie.” Eddie gasped as he pulled away for air. “We can’t do this here.”

Richie stooped down lower to leave more kisses under Eddie’s chin and neck, loving the way Eddie shivered underneath him and how the smaller boy’s hands fisted the front of Richie’s plaid flannel shirt.

“Richie.” Eddie insisted, unhooking himself from the taller boy’s hold and wandering down the aisle. “Somebody could see us! Besides, we should be studying! You might be content with a C+ but I for one want to get an A.”

“You’re killing me, Eds.” Richie whined as he followed to where the boy stood scanning for the book on Napoleon.

“Don’t call me Eds!” Eddie replied absently as he started to explore the shelving.  Richie took a moment to admire how cute Eddie was as he stood on his tiptoes, straining in his baby blue Converse to get as tall as possible while looking at the higher shelves. He had a stubby pencil tucked behind his ear and his kiss swollen lip caught his teeth as he browsed the different titles. Richie couldn’t help coming up behind the short boy and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s tiny frame. Richie pressed a kiss to the smaller boy’s shoulder then one behind the shell of Eddie’s ear.

Richie looked up to the top shelf and spied a huge ass volume about the French Military Leader in question. Carefully he reached up, smooshing Ed against the bookcase a little in the process as he grabbed the huge book. He slung his arms around Eddie again as he lowered himself, positioning the book inches from the tip of Eddie’s nose. “This what you looking for, Beautiful?”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie answered with roses blooming on his cheeks as he seemed to unconsciously settle so he was almost leaning back on Richie’s chest. Richie smirked kissing the top of his boyfriend’s head.

Eddie turned in Richie’s arms and gave the tall boy a cheek kiss which caught Richie off guard enough to loosen his embrace. Eddie promptly ducked back out from the hold and waved for Richie to follow him back to the table.

Richie blinked as he realized slowly that Eddie had evaded his snuggle trap. Suddenly the weight of the brick of a book in his hand seemed to take a tole and Richie looked down to frown at Napoleon Bonaparte’s stupid face on the cover.  “Seriously? I have to lug this fucking thing all the way over to the table and then _study_? Wouldn’t you much rather stay over here and suck face?”  

“Shhhh!” Eddie hissed eyes flicking around to make sure nobody heard that. Which was just paranoia, the library was always dead.

Richie let out a sigh but complied as he staggered back to the table and flopped back in his chair, dropping the book on the table with deep thud. “Fuck do we have to know all this shit? This book is almost as thick as your mom’s-”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth!” Eddie shushed as he dragged the book toward himself. “And what happened to 'Knowledge being the most important thing in the world', huh?”

“I take it back!” Richie whimpered lamely. “We both know I didn’t mean it! I just wanted to-”

“Hey guys!” Ben greets as he struts up to their table and dumps a mess of maps and books next to Eddie.

“Hey Haystack!” Richie forces a smile, he loves dearly Ben but now any chance of convincing Eddie to go make out between the shelves on Mesopotamia and the Franco-Russian war have evaporated.

Eddie offers a genuine welcome. “Hey Ben, whatcha researching now?”

 

“Oh a couple of different things; the occult, local legends, and more geography stuff." Ben enthusiastically answered. "What about you guys?”

Eddie looks at Richie pointedly while he replies. “ Studying for an important history test.”

“It’s awful Benny boy! Eddie’s torturing me, we’ve been here for hours-” Richie wails causing the librarian to look from her desk and give a “Shhhh!”.

Eddie countered “Richie it’s only been like 45 minutes calm your shi-”

“Well my brain hurts! SAVE ME BEN!” Richie theatrically pleaded.

The old librarian slaps a wooden ruler on her desk and gives a more adamant  “SHHHHH!!!” which has all the Losers hush up for a moment. During which time Richie studies Eddie’s face to see if there is any indication of anger, Richie did almost bust them back there. Neither of them had noticed Ben and Richie was absolutely about to make a comment about how he wanted to be macking on Eds.

Eddie just gave him a silent look with those expressive brown eyes that Richie could decypher as ‘I’m not mad. But be more careful’

Richie eased back in his chair and actually opened his binder as a form of additional apology. Richie knew that he almost fucked up and even if Eddie wasn’t mad he still felt terrible about it so he was determined to work. Richie cracked his neck as he grabbed his pen… okay time to study! Richie was gonna be a machine, laser focus, concentration so great it would put Stan to shame!

 …

To Richie’s credit he lasted twenty solid minutes of studying before he started to tune out again. Ben was enamoured with his different books and charts so Richie was kinda wanting to take the opportunity to stare at Eddie again. Cause Eddie truly was Richie’s favorite subject.

Eddie had that pencil out from behind his ear and was making flash cards with facts from that stupid fucking huge history book. The yellow tinted light coming from the lamps hanging from the ceiling made Eddie’s freckles pop. The hyper allergenic boy had a plum knit sweater on that made him look really scholarly but also really soft because Eddie couldn’t help but look like utterly cuddle-able all the freaking time… or maybe that was just to Richie.  

Richie just wanted to touch his boyfriend, to reach across the table and hold hands with Eddie, to trace patterns over the backs of Eddie’s arms, to sift his finger’s through his boyfriend’s groomed hair, but mainly to kiss him again. Richie wanted to cry from all the effort it took to restrain himself from kissing Eddie right now. Richie settled for sliding his foot under the table so that he could hook ankles with Eddie.

 

Eddie looked up at the contact, eyebrow raised in question. Richie just gave a wink and silently blew a kiss. Eddie shook his head clearly amused but he just turned back down to keep working.

 

Nope, Richie was back to wanting attention. “Hey Eddie…”

 

“Hmm?” Eds asked without looking up.

 

“Eddie spaghetti..” Riche cooed trying to get the smaller boy to look at him, Richie took his heel that was linked with Eddie’s ankle and moved it up and down the younger boy’s calf. “My sweet Eddie…”

 

“What do you want?” Eddie finally relented raising his head.

 

Richie just smirked at the other boy’s annoyance. “Hi.”

“That’s it? Hi? O my god, you are such a distraction.” Eddie moaned.

“But I’m your favorite distraction, right?” Richie egged on giving a flirty smile back, Eddie turned back down at the book but didn’t deny it. Hmm that wouldn’t do, Richie was on a warpath now. “Hey Eddie, can I make some flashcards?”

That had Eddie glancing up with a skeptical brow raised. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Richie attempted to sound innocent as he grabbed a handful of the blank ones off of Eddie’s neat stack. Richie carefully, in his neatest scrawl, wrote out I LOVE YOU EDS with lots of corny hearts around it on one of the cards. On another card he wrote "You’re so smoking hot, baby" then proceeded to scratch out complements onto the rest of his mini pile. Richie shuffled his additions into Eddie’s finished column of cards, making sure the I LOVE YOU EDS was close to the top. “Here I can ask you a couple of these if you want.”

Ben looked up at that. “You’re actually going to study, Rich?”

“Well Eddie is keeping me prisoner and it’s not like there is anything better to do.” Richie lied easily. Ben seemed to buy this, or at least didn't care enough, and went back to his reading.

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie watched Richie with narrowed eyes.

Richie just beamed in what he hoped was an inconspicuous way. He pulled up the first flash card and listened as Eddie talked about The Reign of Terror. Another card; Storming of Bastille. Finally the third card was the I LOVE YOU EDS. Eddie blinked, Richie did a mental fist pump as he got Eddie to blush for probably the millionth time today.

Richie leered. “What’s your answer Eddie?”

Eddie stole a side glance to make sure Ben wasn’t paying attention as well as a quick check to make sure that there was nobody else in the library. “You know… I’m not really sure.”

Richie’s heart sank.

“But-” Eddie continued with a slow and small smile spreading. “I think there’s another book on the subject over in the history section.”

Richie’s face lit up instantly as he slowly, as to not tip off Ben, rose from his chair with Eddie doing the same. The boys tip toed back into the history aisle, sneaking one more peak to make sure nobody was around, before Eddie yanked Richie down for kiss.

“I love you too, idiot.” Eddie whispered into Richie’s lips.

Which was definitely the answer Richie was looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update! Man I got swamped with homework but then I also got side tracked because I wrote a fic for Stranger Things (season 2 reminded me how much I need Mike/Eleven in my life) this last week so I kinda neglected this work these last few days. Thank y'all so much for all the sweet comments you guys give me! It really means the world <333 - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	12. Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahah kinda just playing off some stuff from the last chapter :P Richie is smitten with his boy but that won't stop him from messing with Eddie

Richie was torturing his boyfriend the next time he called him baby:

The Losers were seated around the designated cafeteria, snow on the ground meaning that they were forced to sit indoors and face the whispered gossip that surrounded their group, most of the rumors fuelled by Greta Keene. Yes, high school sucked for that. Highschool sucked for bullies in general. Belch, who had been held back a number of grades, was also prone to probing the group in hopes to get a fight out of them had taken a permanent marker and wrote “LOSERS” in hasty scribble over the table top, but the losers didn’t mind. Actually, it was quite the contrary, the table was now officially their table.

 

But that was days ago and everything was in a nice quiet little routine.

Richie got up and if he was home he’d put out any cigarettes his mother left burning and repositioned her on the couch so she wouldn’t choke on her vomit. From there he’d bike to Eddie’s if Richie hadn’t decided to sleep over there. School; Gym, English, and history before lunch. Lunch at the table (bicker with Eddie or Stan). Sleep through the last few periods of the day. Bike over to Eddie’s house or the library so his boyfriend could force him to do at least a third of his assignments and then hang out for a few hours.

Keep going through the motions.

But Richie was getting stir crazy with it all.

So Eddie was gonna have to suffer.

Richie had picked up on the effect of his pet names and how they got Eddie flustered and we were gonna take full advantage of that. He’d already abused his powers enough this last weekend during the Loser’s game night:

_The Losers were seated around Ben’s dining room table clustered around the Hasbro Monopoly Board. Tensions were rising as the competitive side of the Losers started to get drawn out. Normally a game like Monopoly would have driven Richie up the wall; like how the fuck was the housing market supposed to be fun? Psht Monopoly more like Monotony and Richie wasn’t too interested in playing at all. No, he just liked to see the way that everybody started to twitch as the game wore on and pressures rose._

_Usually, after about two hours somebody had half the board bought up and several of the Losers dropped out either from Bankruptcy, crying fucking bloody murder that someone was cheating and then retiring before punches were thrown, or getting thrown out because they were actually cheating (aka Richie). With most of the Losers gone it was usually a standoff against three people; usually Bill, Mike or Stan, and Eddie. Eventually, two of the losers would form an allegiance against the whoever was winning but everybody who was not playing got bored so somebody called ‘uncle’ and they just counted up the money to determine the winner. Which almost always ended up being Bill (the guy was such a nice brother figure nobody ever suspected him of being such a fucking snake at board games)._

_And this night was sizing up to be the same. Richie chuckled to himself as he saw glares being thrown around the table and people guarded their money so somebody (*cough Richie *cough cough) wouldn’t try to steal a few bills from his friends when everyone wasn’t looking. Richie smirked at his friends justified paranoia as he took the dice and rolled landing on the Boardwalk._

_“I’ll purchase this fine establishment, Big Bill.” Richie tried to go for a snooty aristocrat voice._

_“Richie you can’t, you only have $200.” Eddie pointed out._

_“Eddie you are quite right! Care to be partners and buy this property together?”_

_Eddie folded his arms. “I’m not gonna team up with you Richie! You’re the worst at this game and I’m actually pretty close to beating Bill for once here.”_

_“No, we could just buy the property together!” Richie grinned. “Boardwalk; that’s a pretty romantic spot, Eds baby. Bet it’s on the beach, the perfect love nest for me and you….”_

_Eddie flushed._

_“... and your mom.” Richie finished with a wink._

_“In your dreams, Trashmouth.” Eddie just murmured clearly flustered as he trained his gaze on the table.  “And don’t call me that.”_

_From across the table, Stan narrowed his eyes as he took in Eddie’s behavior._

_Richie turned to his other side. “What about you Mikey? Would you be interested in-”_

_“Sharing a love nest with you and Mrs. Kaspbrak? I’ll pass.” Mike scoffed._

_Richie snickered. “Kinky but no, I was gonna say loaning me the cash to buy this fancy overpriced shag shack.”_

_“That’s against the rules.” Stan piped in, following proper board game conduct seemed to take precedence over analyzing why Eddie was suddenly really quiet and bright red._

_“What kind of game is this if you can’t take out loans? What about the bank?”_

_“N-nope” Bill gave a fake sympathetic smile. “S-sorry-y R-r-Richie.”_

_Little shit wasn’t sorry at all._

_“The fuck?! Even the bank is on this? A conspiracy! I’m telling you! Betrayal!” Richie hollered waving his hand in the air while he took the other one to lace Eddie’s fingers with his under the table._

 

So here they were a regular Wednesday noon hour with everyone in their usual seats. Everyone was talking about stupid pointless shit while Ben wrote Bev a letter. Richie had his arm slung around Eddie’s shoulders just as always but Eddie seemed to lean into the touch more now so Richie had a comforting weight on his ribs which felt like a security blanket.

“Okay, Richie, which Disney princess is the hottest? It’s clearly Ariel, yeah?” Mike asked.  

“N-nn-oo way sh-she’s so thin! You c-c-could snap-p her in half!” Bill stuttered out.

“She’s got really pretty hair though.” Ben chimed in without glancing up from his letter.

The Losers all shared a smile knowing perfectly well that Ben had a thing for redheads.

Stan shook his head. “Sleeping beauty-”

“Is the most boring princess! She literally doesn’t do anything!” Mike interjected.

“Sorry, I hate to interrupt but you guys are missing the obvious answer, eh!” Richie said in his poor half-assed excuse of a Canadian accent. “The hottest Disney princess of all time has got to be Eds, guys.” Richie teased while taking his free hand to pinch Eddie’s cute cheeks. Eddie bats the hand away and squirms so he’s not leaning so much on Richie, but the small boy didn’t wiggle out from under Richie’s left arm.

“You’re hilarious.” Eddie deadpans. “And don’t call me Eds, Fuckwad.”

Richie just snickers then turns back to Mike to answer his question. “Hmm guess I’d say Snow white then.”

Everyone blinked. Bill quirks a brow.  “R-ruh-really? I w-wouldn’t have guessed th-that.”

Richie shrugged stealing a glance towards Eddie. “What can I say? I’m weak for big beautiful brown eyes.”

Eddie swallows, the tips of his ears burning bright.

“Plus those puffed sleeves are such a turn on.” Richie continues and forces himself to look away as to not give Eddie a big smooch right then and there.

The table erupts again as Bill makes his case for Cinderella. Richie finds himself mesmerized by the way Eddie’s taking subtle deep breaths through his nose to try and get the color out of his ears and cheeks. Richie wonders if he can get that blush to travel all the way down to Eddie’s dainty collar bones in the next ten minutes…

“Hey Spaghetti,” Richie murmurs lowly. “Can I have some of your sandwich?”

Eddie, who had taken up an unspoken oath to keep Richie fed and healthy since Gr. 3, wordlessly offered up half of his lunch. Instead of grabbing the sandwich like a normal person; Richie bent down and took a single bite from the outstretched sandwich in Eddie’s hands. Being sure to press a kiss into Eddie’s fingers before he bit into the bread. Richie gave a small suggestive moan and peered at his boyfriend from under his lashes. Pulling back he made a spectacle of licking his lips, more than a little proud to see Eddie’s eyes follow the movement. Then Richie leaned in a little closer and hushly said “Thanks, baby.” right in Eddie’s ear.

“Take the damn sandwich, creep.” Eddie snips and his nose scrunched up in that familiar way but his cheeks were noticeably more rosy than before with pink stretching to the top of Eddie’s pretty neck.

“Hmm but where’s the fun in that, _gorgeous_?” Richie leans back a little, but only slightly and only so he can have a better view of Eddie’s glowing face.

The blush deepened, dusting Eddie’s hairline.

Richie smirked smugly.  

“Richie.” Eddie threatens.

“Yes, angel?”

Pink tints turn redder but the blush stays stubbornly on Eddie’s cheeks.

“Quit it.” Eddie ordered. 

Richie just pushed up his glasses. “Quit what, sweetheart?”

“Somebody is going to notice!” Eddie whispers with eyes flicking around.

“What? That pretty blush of yours, honey-bunny?” Richie returns.

“You’re evil. I hate you.” Eddie grumbled.

“Love you too, babe.” Richie whispers back genuinely if only a little smug. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter and he melts for a fraction of a second at the words. But just as quickly Eddie seems to realize this and promptly turned back to the conversation. “I’m ignoring you now.”

“Oh sugar,” Richie’s breaks out into a shit-eating grin. “You couldn’t ignore me if you tried.”

Eddie's eyes stayed glued to Bill and Stan as they switched the conversation topic. Richie vaguely aware of the words “Mr. Harvey” and “banana peel” being tossed around.  

Richie leaned in impossibly closer to his boyfriend, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. The mysophobic teen twitched but seemed determined to not give in.

“Are you the sun?” Richie whispers close to Eddie’s ear so that the rest of the Losers can’t hear him. “Cause you’re so beautiful it’s blinding me.”

Eddie squirms in his seat but just takes a bite of his lunch without sparing a glance.

“Hey Beautiful, got a band-aid in that sexy fanny pack? Cause I scrapped my knee falling for you.”

The flush was officially on Eddie’s neck but Eddie just nodded his head along with whatever the conversation the Losers were having like Richie wasn’t there.

Okay fine, Richie thought, time to really get under Eddie’s skin. “Nah, you must be Madusa. Cause looking at you has got me rock hard!”

“Shut up!” Eddie snaps. But Richie just beams victoriously as he sees the smaller boy’s blush has traveled all the way down past the neckline of Eddie’s loose yellow T-shirt.  

The table looks over lazily at this outburst, this was part of the Loser’s routine after all.  

Mike rolls his eyes. “Stop harassing Eddie, Rich.”

“Harassing?” Richie mock baffles. “Me? Harassing the light of my life over here? Never!”

“W-well whatever you’re d-doing is obviously s-s-stressing Eddie out.” Bill scolds gesturing to Eddie’s lobster colored face.

“You okay, Eddie?” Ben asked concerned as he observed how red Eddie is.

Eddie just pushes Richie’s arm off his shoulders and wishes he could just evaporate into a puff of smoke to avoid the look everyone is giving him. “Y-yeah, just this asshole.”

Stan’s gaze targeted Richie and was the definition of unnerving. “Cut it out.”

Eddie shoots Richie a look as if to say. “I’m never kissing you again, shit-bucket.”

Richie just chuckles knowing full well that Eddie doesn’t mean that at all. Which makes Eddie fume even more. Eddie looks absolutely adorable as he boils in anger. There was just something so cute about unbridled murderous fury when it’s being portrayed by someone so tiny.

No Richie isn’t worried about Eddie. Richie was practically a master at getting his Eddie Spaghetti to forgive him. Came with years of practice with trial and error to get the formula just right; cuddles, soft and sincere ‘I’m sorries’, and no mom jokes for at least 30 minutes.

No, Riche is worried about Stan who is looking at Richie as if he knew every one of the lanky boy’s dark secrets. Trashmouth could practically see Stan’s robot brain piecing things together… How the fuck did Richie intend to hide his relationship with Eddie from Stan?

The bell rang and Eddie gave Richie one more shove but handed him Richie’s bitten half of the sandwich, an unnecessary reassurance but a sweet gesture that warmed Richie’s heart all the same. Eddie mouthed the words “Later.” and glared, must to Richie’s amusement. The losers quickly shuffled off to class, and for the first time since Neibolt house, Richie made sure to avoid Stan for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for the comments. It's been a rough few weeks but y'all always uplift my spirits so much, I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me <333 -mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	13. Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just... love soft boys and supportive friends... what can I say?

The next time was when Richie had to break some news….

 

 

It was mid-December and teachers seemed to want to lay the homework on thick knowing full damn well that everybody was going to jack shit during the holidays. Which meant there was all kinds of group projects being assigned to a number of classes like… English for instance. And wasn’t Richie just the luckiest guy in the world to get paired up with Stanley Uris. Fantastic. Now Richie loves Stan, the guy along with the rest of the Losers is his family, (not to mention Stan’s probably going to do a solid 70-80% of the project work) but Richie knows it’s gonna be impossible to harbor his secret relationship with Eddie for long with Stan hovering around wanting to work. Stan was already onto them…

So far today Richie had been able to avoid confrontation and now, just heading home, he only needed to make it with Eddie to the bike rack and it would be home free. Richie gave a small smile at the thought of Eddie in his hoodie, all cuddly and sleepy from staying up all night finishing a biology lab write up.

Relax Richie, Richie thought. _It’s gonna be fine, take it one step at a time. It’s not like Stan’s gonna isolate you and force you to talk or anything…_

“Richie wait up!” Stan called.

Speak of the devil. Shit.

Richie groaned.

“Hey, Stan.” Eddie smiled, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“Hey Eddie,” Stan grunted fondly as he turned to Richie. “We gotta work on the project.”

“Now?” Richie whined. He was so close to cuddling with Eddie.

“Richie, go work with Stan!  I’ll catch you later.” Eddie asserts. Richie has a moment to think how fucking adorable his boyfriend is when he gets bossy but he still pouts his lip out in protest. There was a fraction of a second where the shorter boy moved forward like he was going to give Richie a kiss goodbye, to kiss that pout clean off, but then he froze and jolted backward to speed walk to his bike.  Cheeks frosted pink as he scurried off without turning around. “See ya!”

Stan had Richie cornered.

_Perfect._

“Stan the Man!” Richie greeted trying to push down his anxiety as he turned to walk to the school library. Might as well get this over with. Stan looked back at him with calculating eyes. SHIT. “So Serious. Got your game face on already, ya dork! So what do you think about lady Macbeth being a total-”

“What was up with you and Eddie yesterday?”

Well, Stan certainly wasn’t taking his fucking time.

“Nothing, just my usual charming self.” Richie uses a voice but he's not even sure what one comes out. A weird hybrid of James Bond and of a Mr. Bigshot movie star. 

Stan shook his head. Eyes so squinty you could barely see the color in them.  “No. You’re different.”

“Am I?” Richie asked with a nervous chuckle which he mentally slapped himself for. Eddie’s voice sounds off in Richie’s head, in that flirty sarcastic way that Richie adores so much: _Sooo smooth ‘Chee._ “Guess I haven’t screwed your mom in a while and am going through withdrawals-”

“Cut the shit.” Stan insisted moving to stand right in front of Richie so that the lanky teen was forced to stop walking towards the library. Richie was taller but Stan was definitely more intimidating with his determined glare. Then Richie could practically see the light bulb go off in Stan’s brain as his face softened happily. “You’re Confessed to Eddie, didn’t you?”

“What? Psh-shawww” Richie drawled cringing at how fake he sounded, even to himself. “Besides, why would I settle for Eds when I’ve Mrs. Uris to keep me-”

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Stan grinned toothily. “I know I’m right! You haven’t phoned my house all ‘Ed’s and his tiny shorts are gonna kill me, Stan.’, ‘His hair is just so perfect Stan, ‘He could do so much better than me, Stan.’ In like,” Stan stopped his horribly whiny impression of Richie to think. “Three and a half weeks. I thought you got tired of me telling you to stop calling at fucking three in the morning and moved on to Bev… but you got yourself some didn’t you?”

Stan was the fucking poster boy for shit-eating grins.

“Don’t tell the others!” Richie squawked out lamely, no point in denying anymore. God Eds is gonna be pissed.

“Nobody is gonna care,” Stan smile softened. “But yeah, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Well leave it to Manly Stanley to find and keep all the Losers secrets.” Richie chuckles weakly.

“So who broke first?” Stan asked with a strange shine in his eyes. Weird… Stan is usually so stoic… and there was an assignment to do… so why was he lingering on this? Something was up... 

Richie groaned but couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face. It’s been hard to not talk about his new found boyfriend with the Losers. “Me. Obviously.”

“How?” Stan pressed.

“Oh, it was romantic. String quartet serenaded us, chocolate covered strawberries, sparkling wine under the stars.” Richie winks. “Just don’t tell Mrs. Uris, wouldn’t want her to be jealous.” Richie realized this was his fourth mom joke in the conversation. Fuck he was a nervous, excited wreck. Somehow Richie had built up willpower during this month because it was taking every last shred of it to keep himself from not blowing up like the Trashmouth he was and tell Stan everything in painful fucking detail. 

Stan just stared with his arms folded across his chest, not buying it for a second.

Richie sighed and suppressed a flush. God, he’s picking up on Eddie’s flustered behavior. “I kinda just… spat it out? I went to Eddie’s after the comic book trade-off and it just kinda…. Came out? I didn’t mean to or anything… he just.. Fuck you should have seen how cute he was all cuddly in his bed! ”

“Ha!” Stan whooped an uncharacterized moment of loud excitement. “Sorry, can we tell Bev? I fucking _called_ it _months_ ago and she owes me ten bucks.”

“You bet money on me and Eds?” Richie asked amused and not at all surprised.

“Yeah, and I get her VHS of _Total Recall_ if you pulled a fucking Romeo and came through the window.”

Richie just laughed.

~

Okay, so Richie knew he had to tell Eddie that Stan knew.

But Richie really didn’t want to… they were having a really good afternoon.  

He cuddled with Eddie on Eddie’s bed. Everything was soft; flannel sheets, December sunset, love filled eyes, hands, pillows, lips. Sleepy Eddie had to be Richie’s favorite Eddie. As much as Richie loved his boyfriend’s quick quips and comebacks, it was nice to see Eddie without all his anxiety. Cause Eddie still reached for an aspirator Eddie wasn’t sure he needed, never checking if asthma was true or just another lie. And Eddie would scrub at his hands till his skin was left raw to get the ‘germs’ off. And have anxiety attacks over the homophobic slurs on the kissing bridge.  Eddie would secretly clutch Richie’s hand like a lifeline, the smaller boy’s face pinched as somebody talked about the faggots spreading AIDS. Then there were the days where Eddie Spaghetti could get snappish because he had been stressed out over tests and pulled all-nighters, Eds’ had ambitions to go to Ivy league or at least to university out of states so he wanted top grades.

Cause Eddie needed to get out of here, Richie had to get his boyfriend out of the Kaspbrak house. Out of Derry. Away from it all.

But here, in this moment, Eddie was stress-free in the gentle sunlight that peeked through half-drawn curtains. Eddie practically glowed in sunlight. Strands of copper in Eddie’s hair burned bright framing his face in a way that seems too beautiful to be captured in a photograph. But Richie wished he had a camera anyway. He wanted to carry this moment with him in his wallet. Have it with him everywhere he went. Just Eddie looking up at him from across the shared pillow. Eddie had half-lidded eyes, tired and ready for bed even though it’s only 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Baby,” Richie started wanting to soften the blow, Eddie smiled still at the relatively new nickname. After all these years finally a nickname for Eddie that the boy didn’t hate, Richie mused. Trashmouth took a breath, he needed to get this out or else Eddie would be extra mad because Richie waited to tell him.

“Hmm?” Eddie prodded sleepily, their hands were linked and Eddie traced Richie’s knuckles with his other hand absently.

“I uh- got to tell you something.” Richie licked his lips and sucked in a breath before his mouth got the better of him, cause didn’t it always, and he started to ramble. “Now it’s not exactly what you’re gonna wanna hear but I promise you this has a happy ending! Actually, I think it’s a positive thing and it’s gonna be good for us-”

“Richie.” Eddie cuts off looking suddenly more awake. “What is it?”

“Um… Stan knows. About us.” Richie confessed. “I didn’t tell him but he figured it out-”

“What did he say?” Eddie gasps out, Richie can already see the panic setting into the hypochondriac's face. Eddie’s hand gripping Richie’s tighter. Which is exactly what Richie was afraid of. Tozier never wants to trigger an anxiety attack and Richie knows well enough that his next answer will make or break one.  

“He’s happy for us!” Richie assures. “Stan’s known about my crush on you since I was 13. He’s actually over the fucking moon, and I quote now, ‘he won’t ever have to hear about my fucking pining filled siliques ever again.”

Eddie lets out a laugh of relief that just borders on watery.

“Now Stan’s not going to tell anybody. That mother fucker can keep a secret, he’s not even gonna tell Bev and he really wants her to pay up because apparently, our friends bet money on us getting together.” Richie continued.

“Of course they did.” Eddie rolls his eyes and he looks more relaxed, breathing normally.

“And I know we weren’t planning on telling anyone yet but would you- maybe want to?” Boom. Out came the big question, the one Richie had been dying to ask since they started dating. Richie just had the urge to run down the street and make everyone painfully aware that Richie Tozier was hella gay for Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie paused to consider. “Well I suppose we could tell Bev next,” Eddie smiled shyly. “At the very least so Stan can get paid.”

Richie grinned so wide he thought his face might crack in half before swooping in to give Eddie a wet kiss on the cheek. Eddie just giggled and swatted Richie away. “Gross!”

“Thank you, baby.” Richie breathes resting his forehead against his boyfriends. “It’ll be good if some people know- I don’t think I can keep all this to myself anymore. I want to scream ‘EDDIE KASPBRAK’S SEXY, ADORABLE ASS IS MINE!’ from rooftops and shit.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Eddie warns giving a playful poke in the chest. “God, Bev is gonna give us shit about this till we fucking die, isn’t she?”

“Don’t worry, princess,” Richie smirks. “I’ll defend our honor.”

“Our honor?” Eddie mocks. “Aww, that’s cute you think you have honor.”

“Fine, _your_ honor! I’m just the scoundrel that stole your heart huh?”

“Yeah. You’re an absolute ruffian.” Eddie smiles coming in for a sweet but languid kiss.

“Your ruffian though,” Richie whispers in between kisses.

“Mine.” Eddie confirms signing contently. “For some reason.”

Richie grinned as he pulled Eddie towards himself so that he could tuck Eddie’s head under his chin, bless Eddie’s tininess. God, they were so fucking sappy. Bev and Stan were gonna fucking have a field day. Enough teasing material to harass the boyfriends for millennia... One day, when Eddie and Richie were out to everyone, the couple could do PDA and Richie could blatantly declare his love for his best friend loud and proud. The others would probably all making kissing noises or give teasing gags when Eddie and Richie would give small pecks or lace their fingers together. It would be a never-ending cycle of someone telling them to “get a room” and everyone bickering over who would be the maid of honor/best man at the wedding. Richie grinned, he couldn’t wait.

Eddie’s hands came up to rest gently on Richie’s chest feeling for a heartbeat through Richie’s black t-shirt like Eddie wanted to claim his prize. The word bounced off Richie’s brain as he gave Eddie a forehead kiss and closed his eyes. _Mine._

And one day soon everybody, or at least everyone who mattered, would know it too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the lack of updates! I know it's been eons! But I finally have made it through finals, and somehow didn't die, so I should be able to get a few more updates in with the break :D. (Who's ready for Christmas fluff?) Thank y'all for all the support!!! I definitely read through some of the past comments to give me a boost over the last couple weeks. Love y'all - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	14. The Holidays

The next time was all the fucking mistletoe’s fucking fault:   
  


It was Christmas time in Derry, the whole town worked together to cover up their dark past and general awful-ness by streaming obnoxious Christmas decorations on everything. Absurd wire frames bent into snowflake shapes and covered in sparkly silver tinsel were slung from every lamp post. All the shops competed to have the pretties most Christmas-y window displays, the drug store even made a tree out stacked pill bottles. Every font door to Derry was adorned with a Christmas wreath, every house had Christmas lights hanging, and a tree straight out of a Freese’s catalog visible in the living room window when blinds weren’t closed. Yes, Christmas air brought the sickeningly sweet artificial scent of sugarplums in Derry and everyone was intoxicated by it. 

Well everyone except for the Toziers. Naturally. 

No the Tozier parents were too busy being the normal kind of intoxicated to bother with something like the holidays. In the weeks leading up to Christmas Maggie Tozier made no effort to spruce up the house with a wreath or a tree. No, the only holiday tradition Maggie took up was her special holiday cocktail which mainly meant a mug of eggnog with rum in it. However, soon enough Mrs. Tozier abandoned the effort it took to mix the drink all together, left the eggnog forgotten on the coffee table, and stuck to drinking the rum straight out the bottle. 

A few days before Christmas, on a rare day, Richie was actually home, Went banged on his son’s bedroom door. Richie opened it cautiously, never sure what to expect. 

“Richard,” Wentworth regarded his oldest and only coldly. “Your mother and I are going to Jamaica this year, Rodgers got a timeshare he’s letting us use.”

Went explains callously and Richie nods even though he doesn’t have a fucking clue who Rodger is or why he’d show any kindness to his parents. 

“We’ll be back by the third. When I get back this house better be clean, you hear? I got Mrs. Clark keeping an eye out for you and so god help me if you pull any stupid shit to embarrass me while I’m away, I will hear about it. And if I get one complaint, you are gonna be begging for your life, do you understand?”

Richie nods and lets out an indignant. “Yes, sir.” 

“And I’ve got a count on the bottles so you better not think about touching them.” 

Richie resists an eye roll. His father always said that and his father has never noticed if one or two, three or four… seven or eight bottles of booze went gone missing. Richie’s gotten some great coin for the arcade selling to some of the golden boy jocks on the football team a bottle or two for discount prices and the condition for them to stop harassing Eddie so much.

Richie just gives another nod and bites his lip to prevent any snarky remark from leaving his mouth. 

Went just turns around and wanders back down the hall. A suitcase is packed and waiting outside his bedroom door. When his parents leave, Richie braces the cold in only his weathered jean jacket at the end of the driveway to wave away their cab. A show Went orchestrated for the neighbours, a son is supposed to see his parents off as they depart in cab for an airport.  And for Richie’s part he gives a genuinely enthusiastic wave goodbye, because his parents are gone. 

Richie is free.

As soon as the cab turns around the street corner, Richie bolts inside to call Eddie and the rest of the Losers. They are gonna have a holiday party! They’re gonna play cheesy fucking music, Bing Crosby or some shit, at glass rattling volumes. Richie’s gonna make his mom’s holiday cocktail, which Eddie no doubt will wrinkle his nose at in distaste (fucking adorable). And everyone can exchange gifts. And decorate the house with corny macaroni and popcorn based decorations. And watch every Christmas special on TV while eating too much of Eddie’s Christmas pudding, they won’t stop shoveling the treat down their throats until they all get sick. Then everyone can stay over for days before their families notice. It’s gonna be perfect. 

And the day just keeps getting better.

Because right after Richie finishes a very long and excited conversation with his love, Richie could tell Eddie was practically bouncing with excitement as they discussed at great length appetizers (“ _ Richie caviar is disgusting! And where the hell are we gonna make the money? I’ll make my seven layer dip and do desserts. And if you bring up my apron up one more time I will fucking break up with you, shithead!” _ ),  the phone rang. 

“Welcome caller, you’ve reached Madame Bovary’s pleasure house, what are you wearing?” Richie answers the phone in his most sultry tone. 

“Hahahaha You always this good on the phone, Rich? Eddie’s gotta love that.”

“Bev!!!” Richie cheered. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I thought that was Mrs. Kaspbrak, and I’m doing just fine. Actually, better than fine. I’m calling from Ben’s house. I’m back, bitch!”

Richie let out a whistle. “FUCK YEAH! This is awesome! You’re never gonna believe my good luck...”

 

~~~

 

Eddie arrives first with heaving bags of groceries weighing him down. He determinedly stumbles into the kitchen with Richie stealing a few bags off Eddie as the smaller boy just marches to the kitchen without even pausing to kick off his boots. Eddie dumps his bags on the countertop and Richie scoops the slightly breathless boy in his arms for a kiss. Cause it’s Christmas time, and Eddie’s still got snowflakes clinging to his lashes and dusting his winter clothes, his button nose and cheeks are red from the cold. He’s so cute that Richie thinks he’d die if he didn’t kiss Eddie right there and then. And they both know that they won’t be kissing later. Richie drops the grocery bags to the floor with a soft thud, and his hands come up to cup Eddie’s cold cheeks. Their noses lean against each other and even though everything about Eddie is chilly from frigid wind, Richie is filled with such warmth. The ooey-gooey type of warmth that has Richie melting and his toes curling as they share the gentlest of kisses. 

Richie beams as he pulls away to see Eddie still frozen in place with his face tilted up, lips still slightly puckered, and eyes closed. Eddie blinks his eyes open looking a little dizzy, which does wonders to Richie’s ego. Eddie gives a small sweet smile and snow if falling outside the kitchen window and everything is so soft and sweet-

“Did you bring it?” Richie asks teasingly.

Moment ruined. 

Eddie groans and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I told my mom that I was cooking and she wouldn’t let me out the door without it.”

Eddie walked over and pulled a ridiculously over the top Christmas apron out of a bag. Eddie’s aunt had made Eddie and Sonia mother/son Christmas aprons earlier this month. The monstrosities had tinsel borders and little chain of bells at the bottom, which jingled pretty much anytime Eddie moved, there were embroidered poinsettias and the words “Mrs. Klaus’ favorite lil’ helper”  stitched into the front. Eddie loathed it and was beyond pissed that his aunt had to have the “lil” in there because the apron wasn’t embarrassing enough, no she just had to bring his height into this. 

Richie bit his lip to hold a chuckle and the volley of chirps that poured into his mind. Eddie had described the apron, and his hatred for it, over the phone but Richie hadn’t actually seen it yet. 

It was  _ so much _ uglier in person. 

Eddie sighed and tied the apron on reluctantly. He narrowed his eyes. “Not one fucking word, Chee.” But as Eddie scowled and went to cross his arms over his chest the bells jingled. 

Richie couldn’t hold it back any longer and let out a howl of laughter. 

 

~~~

 

Bev and Ben were the next to arrive. Bill not far behind them bringing stuff to string popcorn together. Eddie was still whisking around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on their dinner together, and the rest of the Losers brought over decorations to put up around the house and made themselves busy by blowing up green balloons (nobody wanted red ones) and taping them up in the corners. They put red, blue, white, and green streamers up on the walls and put Richie’s old tape of _ Frosty the Snowman _ on TV. 

Mike arrived at 4 in his Grandpa’s truck. He brought the Christmas tree, one he had chopped down himself. It was small and scraggly, the only one that Mike’s grandpa would tolerate losing, but in a way that made the tree perfect for the Losers. Richie dusted off some of his the Tozier’s old Christmas ornaments but a lot of them had been broken over the years. Most likely a consequence of a drunk Maggie Tozier putting them away. Bev and Richie found some plain paper but also used old flyers and some of Richie’s incomplete algebra homework to make cut out snowflakes and origami decorations to put on the tree instead. 

Stan was a little bit later to appear. He had to get out of his dad’s Hanukkah traditions. He had stayed at home long enough for his parents to light the fourth Menorah candle, grab a plate of his mom’s latkes, and ditched. 

Everybody had tackled Bev in a hug pretty much the second they noticed her presence. But with all the Losers finally together, the first time in ages, Richie screeched out a “GROUP HUG!” as they all swarmed her. 

“I missed you boys, too!” She smiled warmly as they all crushed her in an embrace. 

As they separated Eddie sauntered back to the kitchen as the timer on their Holiday-season-because-we-have-a-spectrum-of-religions-in-our-little-family pot roast sounded. Richie watched him go with a dopey grin on his face. Richie would never get over how pretty Eddie was. Never. The boy was simply ravishing this evening, ugly Christmas apron and all. 

Richie stalked towards the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. In his corner of his eye he caught Bev and Stan whispering and grinning at each other but Richie’s focus was set on Eddie as he fussed over the food. The smaller boy was muttering to himself things like “Hmmm this looks a little overdone, and the potatoes need more salt, and the pudding should be set by now.”  

Eddie had a little crease in his forehead as he tossed the salad, mind traveling a mile a minute on what else needed to be done. Despite all the busy state, Eddie still teased Richie out of the lanky teen’s stupor. “Enjoying the view, are you?”

“Everything looks good enough to eat.” Richie winked back making it clear with one look that Richie wasn't talking about the food. Eddie rolled his eyes but a pink glowed on his cheeks. Fuck, Richie needed to stop making Eddie blush so much. Eddie was too cute then and Richie was physically restraining himself from rushing over there and hoisting Eddie up on the counter tops to lip lock. 

“Beep beep, Rich.” 

Richie just smirked.

Eddie grabbed a bag of chips that Bill had brought over to put out with his dip but Richie couldn’t resist putting his tall demeanor to good use and blocking up the doorway. Eddie let out a huff. 

“Move.” Eddie rudely commanded. 

“Uh-uh-uh.” Richie tsked with a toothy grin plastered on his face. In a condescending tone and a voice that almost freakishly sounded like the kindergarten teacher Mrs. Rice, Richie continued. “You didn’t say the magic word.”

“Fuck off.”

“Anytime, anywhere.” Richie flirted back blowing a kiss. 

“Richie!” Eddie moaned exasperatedly and attempted to push past the barricade that was his boyfriend. Richie just chuckled at Eddie’s futile attempt to get around him and the smaller boys increasing frustration as his limbs poked out awkwardly in an attempt to escape. 

From across the room, Mike burst out laughing which finally broke their attention from each other. The two paused, a tangle of limbs as they looked over to find Mike in hysteric and pointing above their heads. In the doorframe, somehow unnoticed until this moment, was a sprig of mistletoe. 

And Richie and Eddie were standing directly under it. 

Richie scanned his friends’ faces for reactions. Mike and Bill were laughing, Ben was blushing and giving them a sympathetic look, Stan fighting back a knowing smile, but Bev was looking at them with an evil smirk on her face. 

Obviously her malicious plan all along. 

Richie could practically hear her maniacal laugh in his head. Oh, he was sooo going to get her back for this later. 

“P-p-pucker up!” Bill bleated. 

“Oh no!” Richie fake called in protest. “We have to kiss now! How awful!”

“You don’t have to-.” Ben started to assure wanting to save anyone from awkwardness but before anyone else could move Richie was turning back to Eds, who was still pressed against him in the doorway, and swooped down and connected their lips. 

“Oh shit!” Mike chortled in the background. But Richie hardly noticed as he reveled in being able to kiss Eddie in front of everyone. He probably should have done just a peck but he held the soft kiss out for a little longer than probably necessary. One could hardly peck Eddie, the boy was far too kissable. And Richie felt himself go lightheaded as Eddie started to firmly move his lips against Richie’s. Richie couldn’t simply pull away so they lingered in this moment for too long. Probably giving themselves away and oh fuck Eddie was gonna be mad. Then again Eddie wasn’t exactly pulling away either... 

The room erupted around them as Bill and Mike were practically on the floor in convulsing snickers, Stan and Bev gave each other high fives, and Ben stood stock still and impossibly red thinking that poor Eddie was going to be mortified by this. 

“Hmm, baby.” Richie breathed dreamily as Eddie eventually pulled back but their foreheads were still touching and they were still very much wrapped in each other's embrace. It was just one of those things Richie’ really didn’t mean to spit out but he couldn’t help it because his head was still a little foggy from just that simple kiss. Cause that’s what Eddie did to him. Nobody heard Richie’s involuntary slip of the tongue over Bill and Mike’s cackling but Eddie and Richie jumped away from the other anyways as their eyes popped open upon hearing those words. 

Stan rushed over to save the moment by picking up the bag of chips Eddie had dropped sometime while trying to leave the door. The food distracted the other losers as the chuckles died down. Eddie slipped back into the kitchen trying to get his blush under control and Richie just flopped onto the couch. Bev sat next to him and gave him a smile. 

“You guys are so adorable it’s disgusting.” She whispered to Richie as Mike and Stan started to argue over what movie they should put on next. Ben ducked into the kitchen to make sure Eddie wasn’t too embarrassed. 

“Aww don’t be jealous, Bevvie. You’ll always be my number one.” Richie grinned as he slung an arm over her shoulders and gave her a wet smooch on the cheek.

“Haha save it for Eds.” She quietly shot back as she shoved him off her. 

With that, Eddie entered the living room beaming. “Dinner’s ready!”

The others pounced into the kitchen, Ben only mildly showing his disappointment when he wasn’t able to catch Bev in the doorway, and all grabbed a plate to devour the feast. They returned to the living room and Richie resumed his spot on the couch but this time it was Eddie instead of Bev who sat slotted under his arm.  

Bill, sick of Mike and Stan’s bickering, just put on _ Home Alone  _ and everyone quieted down to eat and watch the movie. Everyone recited the catch lines of the film with everyone screaming ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!’. 

Richie looked at his friends and his cheeks almost hurt because of how much he was smiling. As predicted everyone pigged out on the Christmas pudding, and lounged through the tummy aches with waves of Christmas movies. Eddie snuggled into Richie’s side, the dark of the room protecting them as the only light came from the Christmas tree and the Television. 

“Merry Christmas, Chee.” Eddie smiled as he looked at Richie with his face pressed against Richie’s chest. The darkness did nothing to conceal the compassion in Eddie’s eyes and it made Richie’s breath hitch and his heart stutter. Richie felt a little drunk in this moment, but maybe that was the glass of holiday cocktail, and he felt like he would never be this happy again for as long as he lived. In a moment of boldness, Richie pressed a fleeting kiss to the top of Eddie’s hair. 

Richie felt like the Grinch, his heart expanding three sizes at the sight as he whispered back just as softly “Merry Christmas, Eddie baby.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's after Christmas so this update is long overdue but well... here it is anyway? I just wanted my boys to spend their holidays with Bev cause they miss her and I haven't written her into this work in eons and it's a crime! Think my girl Bev only has one line of dialog in this whole work up until this point and is just referenced by other characters here and there, how could I neglect her like that? 
> 
> Also, you all are allowed to yell at me if I write another chapter about sleepy cuddles. I realize sleepy cuddles is literally 80% of this fanfic... so I should expand my horizons a bit... which probably means more angst... so brace yourself, friends. mwahahahaha - mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	15. Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep your hands and feet inside the cart at all times, folks.  
> Strap in this is gonna be a ride.

The next time Richie called Eddie his baby was when they were finally out to everyone that mattered:

 

Eddie was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. A pendulum of nerves.

It was January 3rd and Bev would be heading back to Portland soon and it just felt right to come out to the Losers when they were all together. Richie and Eddie were going to do it New Years but _“Richie you fucking sap that’s too fucking cliche!”._

Eddie was a wreck.

He was going to burn a hole through the floor with his pacing. Finally, Eddie seemed to snap and he marched back over to Richie’s bathroom with Richie trailing behind him. Eddie had washed his hands four times in the past hour as had prattled on with fun facts about all different germs that manifest on doorknobs pretty well all day. He brushed his teeth twice and combed his hair again all the while with one hand firmly clutching his fanny pack for dear life.

“Relax, baby.” Richie cooed coming up to cuddle his boyfriend from behind as Eddie stood in front of his bathroom sink. Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie and nestled his chin into the shorter boys shoulder as he locked their eyes together in the mirror. Eddie’s reflection looked so fucking small.

Eddie’s body was tense as he turned on the hot water and started rubbing his hands yet again. “Fuck Richie, when was the last time you cleaned out that tub? The average bathtub will accumulate-”

“Baby.” Richie interrupts kissing behind Eddie’s ear to try and calm him down.

Eddie took a shuttered inhale as he leaned back into Richie’s chest to feel the rise and fall of Richie’s lungs. Richie could feel Eddie shaking slightly in his arms, small body buzzing with internal panic, and he was taking shallow breaths.

“That’s right, Eds. Breath with me.” Richie guides taking in deep lungfuls of air before slowly exhaling.  

In for six, hold for three, out for seven. Repeat.

“Don’t call me that, douche.” Eddie croaked back after a moment of respiration, breath still raspy as he struggled to get his anxiety under control.

“Mmm, you love it.” Richie murmured lowly pressing a kiss to Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s lips twitched up despite himself. “Go fuck yourself.”

“How fucking poetically put, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie grinned back, his arms tightening to squeeze Eddie. The hypoallergenic teen just rolled his eyes in return but he had a smile on his face, albeit a smile that was still twitchy with nerves.

They just watch each other in the mirror for a while. Richie observing how some of Eddie’s freckles were fading because of January cold and the lack of sunlight. It was quite peaceful, they had another forty minutes or so before people would be arriving.

“What if they hate us?” Eddie whispers softly. There is so much fear in his eyes and Richie can empathize. He’s been jittery all week from the same worries. Richie’s been dying to tell the Losers since he kissed Eddie, he wanted everyone to know because now that Richie had Eddie it was exhausting to contain his emotions to himself. But now that it was coming down to it Richie was afraid.

Richie had been having nightmares, dreams where Bill looked at him with empty eyes, Richie would reach for him but his oldest friend would pull away. _Get your filthy hands away from me, queer._ Dreams where Mike sneers at him. Of Ben not being able to look him in the eye. With Stan and Bev pulling away too, because they never actually supported Richie, that they had lied about being happy for Richie and Eddie. And then Bill would march up to Eddie’s house and tell Mrs. Kaspbrak everything, the hippopotamus of a woman would lose her shit. Screaming, crying and hitting Eddie while Richie watched and was unable to move. Sonia Kaspbrak would grab her son so tightly that his arm would break as she dragged him into the car and away to chuck him into some mental home as to cure his “sickness”. Richie’s parents would come for him too, beating him until he was no longer recognizable. His mother wailing she wished she had a daughter. Eventually Went would grab a broken piece of bottle and then-

Richie would wake up next to Eddie’s sleeping face. And he would grab the hypochondriac to cradle him fiercely against his chest.

He hadn’t told Eddie any of this.

Eddie was having his own nightmares.

“Whatever happens, we got each other,” Richie promises. “We do this together.”

In all honesty, Richie’s looking for confirmation himself. It would be easier if they just stopped whatever was between them now, that’s another nightmare. That Eddie doesn’t think Richie is worth anything. Not worth the minuscule risk of their friends being homophobic. Not worth coming out. That Eddie will figure out that Richie is no good to anyone or for anything. Richie wants to, needs to, hear Eddie tell him that they are strong enough for this. Eddie notices. Because Eddie always _sees_ Richie.

“Together.” Eddie echos certainly, fiercely. He turns around, pushing up on his toes, to give Richie a kiss.  

_Yeah,_ Richie thinks as he runs his thumb over Eddie’s cheek. _They can do this._

 

_~_

One by one the Loser’s file into Richie’s house. Bill comes first and notices something is up almost instantly but makes no comment. Instead, Big Bill greets Eddie with a pat on the shoulder and Richie a playful shove.  A comfort not lost on Richie.

In the course of the next fifteen minutes the procession continues with the usual suspects; Stan, Ben, Bev, and finally Mike. It’s actually pretty normal for a span of five minutes. Bev, Ben, and Bill claim the couch and start chatting about fucking Aliens of all things. Ben got this book out from the library and is going over how they could be like little cells or bacteria or something.

“B-bu-b-but that’s no fun-n, B-ben!”

“Yeah, plus we should be ready in case there’s an invasion. What if the aliens are like in the movie and it lays eggs inside of us so hundreds of little baby aliens rip through your stomach and then they start to eat there way out of you!”

Stan, poised in the chair close to the window, just rolls his eyes.

“If there are aliens we’re tracking them right now. Area-51, man. The government's probably all over it.” Mike inputs from his spot on the floor.

“Just conspiracy.”

“How the fuck do you explain Roswell then?”

“It was clearly a fucking weather balloon, they had pictures!”

“Not of the crash site! Those pictures are FAKE!!!”

 

This went on for a while.

The longer it went on the more Richie started to itch, a neurotic sensation stretching beneath his skin that begged to be scratched. To rip the band-aid off as it were. Richie had to bite his lip to keep from just shouting out in the middle of the hub “I’M DATING EDDIE!” and to hell with the consequences.

Slowly the conversation wound down, especially when other Losers picked up on Richie’s quietness and lack of sexual mom jokes. Mike gave him a questioning and concerned look, brown eyes worried something was wrong. Stan and Bev, who had an inkling of what was about to happen, gave supportive nods and smiles. Ben was trying to lighten the mood by suggesting they watch an alien movie later, offering to rent _E.T._ or _Alien_. Bill waited patiently on the couch for either Richie or Eddie to make a move.

“Hey Rich, you okay?” Mike asked apprehensively. Richie could read it plain as day on Mike’s face; the worry that there was another monster rolling around Derry going bump in the night….

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie cleared his throat. “You guys, I can’t believe like I got like the most amazing thing to tell you!” Richie fought his own anxiety with doing a voice, he attempted for Valley Girl but Richie’ knew it was almost unrecognizable.

Eddie, standing next to him, paled as he squinted at Richie with at least 100 different things in his eyes. First was embarrassment, then it was disbelief but not really because who was Eddie kidding this was _Richie_ so of course he was going to pull some dumb shit, and then _Richie you insufferable pile of manure how could you pull this dumb shit we are literally about to come out to our friends, why am I dating you?!,_ but probably the clearest expression was **_BEEP FUCKING BEEP TRASHMOUTH_ **.

Richie gave a slightly bashful, actually fucking bashful, shrug back quickly ducking his head before attempting to say _sorry you know I can only restrain my mouth for so long, babe._ With his eyes. To which Eddie gave an exasperated sigh in reply with his face rising to the sky as if to ask some deity “Why the fuck did I sign up for this?”.

A smile tugged at Bill’s lips upon watching the silent interaction between the two of his longest friends, he turned to see Bev and Stan grinning. Bill focused on Bev, subtly pointing at Eddie and Richie with a smile growing. Bev winked as they all shifted back to face the happy couple.

“So uh-” Eddie began, his gaze was lowered and transfixed on a stain on Richie’s carpet. “Um-uh… you all are… family to us and we just… um...uh w-w-w-wanted to let you know th-that…” Eddie looked so frustrated with himself that he might start crying, tears collecting, he pinched his eyes closed to keep the water from spilling down his cheeks and took trembling inhale.

Richie wasn’t concerned with his friends in that moment and reached out to pull Eddie into his side, arm around Eddie’s frame as his boyfriend tried to hide his face into Richie’s shoulder. Richie stroked Eddie’s arm soothingly and Eddie gave a small nod to say he was okay.

 Eddie carefully uncoiled himself so he wasn’t concealed in Richie’s embrace, Richie kept his arms around Eddie though and squeezed him once to remind him of “Together.”

“So I’m dating this idiot,” Eddie confessed in his usual manner, one solid rush of words.

Everyone blinked.

“Yeah, we’re gay and in love.” Richie crooned from behind his boyfriend staring down at the smaller boy proudly. “So go gently break the news to your mothers’ that all of Richie Tozier is taken. That my heart, body, soul, but most importantly my extremely long wang is now the property of Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“You killed it.” Eddie shook his head and dug his elbow into Richie’s ribs but there was no malice in the words.

“Ah-b-b-bout fucking time!” Bill beamed.

“Yeah, the air between you two has been charged for years! I knew you guys would end up together from like day one. I should have noticed something changed sooner.” Mike chorused.

“Oooooo Bev!” Stan singsonged cheekily.

“Fuck Stan, you can’t even let them finish this moment?” Bev groaned.

“I’ve been waiting for like a month.” Stan insisted. “Come on, cough it up!”

Bev grumbled to herself as she reached into the bag at her feet to get Stan’s long owed VHS and ten dollars.

Then there seemed to be a hub of questions from all sides; “How long?”, “Why the fuck did you settle for Rich, Eddie?”, “Have you been on any dates?”, “Who confessed to who?”, the questions all started to blur into each other.

Eddie laughed skin turning a little pink as he answered Bill and Mike’s machine gun round of questions. Bev and Stan started arguing about who picked up on Eddie and Richie’s mutual crush first. Richie’s face was about split in half with the gigantic smile he wore as he dropped the occasional comment about how irresistible his charms were.

“Ben?” Eddie asked.

Richie examines Eddie who was observing their other friend who had been silent for the entirety of this conversation. Ben was wide-eyed in shock with his brows a little furrowed as if he was trying to comprehend what new had just befallen their little circle of friends.

“Eddie and Richie are so cute together, don’t you think?” Bev asked Ben giving him a light elbow shove as a prompt. The undertone to her question was evident; say something supportive right now or else.

“I just- I don’t understand." Ben admitted.

Richie could feel Eddie tense up in his arms and Richie wasn’t much better his jaw tightening but before he could open his mouth, Stan interjected;

“Don’t understand what, exactly?”

“It’s just-” Ben scratched the back of his neck. “You guys are... gay?”

“Yeah, I thought I said that.” Richie grits out from between his teeth as he pulls Eddie so there isn’t any space between them, arm coming over his little Eddie Spaghetti like a shield. In all of Richie’s nightmare’s Richie was devastated, speechless, and inconsolable mess but in real life, this situation had him in full protection mode. Richie wants to block this conversation out, to be a physical barrier between what's being said and Eddie. But Richie also holds his boyfriend close because Richie can feel something cracking inside him. Insecurities, fears, and emotions he's wrestling to keep at bay, and Eddie's a lifeline. Ben’s next steps would determine if Richie snapped and beat the living shit out of him, an unsettling rage slithered in the bottom of the lanky teen’s stomach that was ready to rampage if given half the chance.

Nobody was going to hurt Eddie.

Even if that someone was family.

“I just- I- I - I would have thought Eddie of all people- with the concern for diseases. You guys could get AIDS.”

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

There it was; the truth. The truth tended to be a cold and relentless son of a bitch and it hurt like a mother fucker. The air was knowed from everyone's lungs as they stood stock still, room so quiet that you could hear a pin drop from a mile away. Everyone momentarily paralyzed, feeling as though they had just been slapped across the face. 

And it came from Ben of all people.

Sweet, kind, quiet Ben. Ben who wrote love poems and broke up arguments, and lend people books, and would prattle on for hours about countless dorky subjects.

Richie remembers the day the Losers stole from the pharmacy to patch Ben up. So that _Eddie_ could patch him up. How the fuck could Ben say this to Eddie? After everything? The Losers had shown him kindness, let him join their group, fought monsters with him, told him secrets nobody else knew, saw him every day because Ben was just like the rest of their little family; from a broken home and living as an outcast in a shitty town.

But here Ben was; having the nerve to say this to everyone’s face.

Saying it to Eddie’s face.

“What the fuck?!” Bev scowled moving backward so she wasn’t sitting as close to Ben on the couch.

“I don’t want them to die!” Ben returned almost pleadingly. “The newscasters all say the same thing, people who are gay get AIDS and die! Being gay isn’t natural and it makes you contract all kinds of diseases until you get AIDS. People are dropping dead on the street every day and those are the lucky ones! Others spend months in pain-”

“Shut up!” Mike growls.

Ben focuses on Eddie and almost begs him. “Please, if you stop now you won’t get sick!”

That’s a low blow and everybody knows it.  

Stan, Mike, and Bev stand up as if ready to fight and Richie would be right along with them if he wasn’t hugging Eddie. Eddie stood like a statue, mouth hanging open and the tears from earlier welling up again in his eyes. The smaller boy balled his fists and pushed the tears down determined not to cry here.

“Ben you need to get the fuck out of here. Right now.” Bill warns coldly, no stutter in his voice as anger smolders in his gaze. Bill grabs Stan’s wrist to keep the wiry-haired boy from clobbering Ben.

Ben nods, eyes flickering to see everyone’s betrayed expressions. Ben’s eyes get glassy with unshed tears as he picks up his jacket and mittens to brace the cold. “I love you guys. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

The room fills into a heavy silence as Ben scrambles to get his winter gear on. Bill still holds Stan’s wrist, afraid of what the other boy would do if he let go, and also shoots Mike and Bev a glance to keep them from through punches too.

“You don’t love us, you can’t love us if you don’t accept us.” Eddie breaks the silence, voice quiet but so strong it would plow Hercules over and it sent shivers down Richie’s spine. Eddie puts his hand over Richie’s, laces their fingers together, and holds on tight. “And this, me and Richie, isn’t a sickness. It could never be.”

“Don’t think about talking to any of us ever again unless you sort out your shit.” Bev spat.  

Ben wordlessly left the house with one more desperate look directed to Eddie and Richie.

“That asshole better watch his back.” Bev fumed.

“He’s lucky he was able to walk out when he did.” Mike added, visibly shaking from the constraint of his fury.

Eddie seemed to drop in Richie’s arms like he could no longer hold himself up, knees giving out so Richie was the only thing keeping him up from tumbling to the floor. A sob ripped from the younger boy’s throat and tears poured down his face. Eddie desperately grabbed at Richie’s shirt and burrowed his face into the fabric like he just wanted to disappear into the piece of clothing.

Richie somehow found a way to bring them closer, nesting his face into Eddie’s hair and effectively tangling the strands which had been combed so many times that day. Richie felt his glasses cut into his cheeks as he continued to hold Eddie like this but he couldn’t be bothered as he also began to cry. The aggression had been drained from Richie’s body and as much as Richie wished he wasn’t weak, that he could be strong for Eddie here, he just couldn’t fight the tidal wave of emotions that seemed to knock him over.

Stan, after being released from Bill, was the first one to walk over and throw an arm around the grieving couple. Bill followed close behind and not even half a second later the remaining members of the broken Losers club all clutched to one another in a group hug.

“I’m so sorry.” Bev whispered as if she had anything to be sorry about.

But they were all sorry.

“I c-c-could try to r-reason with him. He’s an ass b-b-bu-but he c-could come around.” Bill attempts to console. And maybe that was true if Bill sat Ben down and could just get him to understand- everyone wanted Ben in the group but everyone was too heartbroken right now to even want to think about him.

 

The lucky seven had been ripped down to six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo..... yeah.
> 
> Me:*may or may not have included details in prior chapters to suggest that Eddie and Ben were good friends to make this chapter hurt more.
> 
> Yeah.... so... the angst is back. Mwahahahahahhahahhahhahaha - mythicalowlsicety xoxo


	16. Combust

The next time Richie thought he would combust:

 

Richie had snuck into his bedroom window that morning, after a night cuddling Eddie, to hear his parents screaming downstairs. From the sound of it, Maggie had been doing the laundry while piss drunk and had shrunk Mr. Tozier's best suit jacket in the wash and had accidentally dyed the majority of his dress shirts pink after throwing a red sock in with a load of whites. Richie rolled his eyes and went through his morning routine without paying mind to the sounds of thuds, crashes, bangs, sobs, and shatters below his feet. 

 

Richie just made sure to grab a change of clothes (or three) to bring with him to Eddie's later.

No fucking way he was coming home to this later. 

 

Besides, Richie had Eddie to go to instead.

 

Which brings us to now with Eddie pressed on top of Richie.

And Richie was going to explode.

Everything was burning, every touch branded into Richie’s skin. Eddie’s lips slid against Richie’s and the rest of the world could be blown to pieces and Richie wouldn’t give a rat’s ass.

Cause as far as Richie was concerned, everything was already on fire.

They were lying on Eddie’s bed with glasses off, Mrs. Kaspbrak out on errands, having much needed alone time. Time Richie would spend trying to pinpoint what exactly was the flavor of Eddie’s newest chapstick, it was cinnamon with a dash of something else… Richie nibbled on the lower lip trying to figure out what the other spice was. Nutmeg? Clove? Fuck whatever it didn’t matter. Eddie’s lips smooth lips were just extra tasty and that was good enough for Richie’s dizzy (ready to combust) head. This almost didn’t feel real, but Richie soaked up the feeling and taste to hold onto, everything so perfect it almost felt like a fever dream. Eddie trailed his lips down to Richie’s neck, nipping softly and savoring the way Richie would groan and make these noises from somewhere deep inside his throat.

Richie’s head was gone, couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of Eddie surrounding him. Eddie had his fingers knotted in Richie’s hair and the weight of Eddie on Richie’s chest felt like the only thing tethering Richie’s soul from leaving his body. Richie held onto Eddie’s hips as if Eddie would disappear if he wasn’t keeping him here. He watched at Eddie mouthed at his neck and it was almost too much.

Too close. Not close enough. Too much. Not enough.

Richie worked to remember every detail of this moment. Eddie’s hair was a mess, cheeks flushed, cinnamon flavored lips a kiss-swollen deep pink, with dilated eyes looking at Richie so deeply.

So deep.

Brown eyes pouring into Richie’s as if the taller boy was the only thing in the entire world. As if Richie was the only thing that mattered, and oh god how badly Richie wanted to matter to Eddie. Richie memorized the moment but he had to close his eyes. Too much. Too deep. Like Eddie was a burning flame too bright to look at.

Richie shuddered as Eddie’s lips moved to his pulse point, Eddie lingered on the particular spot as Richie was reduced to a shaking mess beneath him.

“Baby,” Richie gasped not even sure he could form words at this point. “Marks.”

“I know.” Eddie murmured with his lips brushing the spot. Then he bit down, roughly. Richie cried out, eyes flying open again only to be helpless to watch as Eddie licked and kissed to sooth the bite. “That’s the point.”

 Eddie leaned back onto Richie’s thighs to admire his handiwork. Richie took one hand up to feel Eddie’s saliva, which really should have been gross but Richie was weirdly enthralled by it, that covered the new bruise forming on his neck.

This was going to cause so many problems.

For one thing, Richie was going to have to invent some girlfriend to have given him this hickey because otherwise, Wentworth Tozier was going to kill Richie. Which might be a good thing, maybe his dad would get excited and throw him some cash.

For another, the Losers are going to give Richie such shit. He will never hear the end of this. Never ever.

But none of that meant anything because Richie belonged to Eddie.

The bruise was something Richie could see, something he could feel. Something that nobody could take from him. And every time he looked at the mark or felt the pull of the bruise when he tilted his head, Richie was going to think of this. Of him and Eds.

Cause he was Eddie’s.

“God never thought I’d see the day.” Eddie mused softly. “Trashmouth Tozier, speechless.”

“Well, my mouth has been pretty occupied, Eds.” Riche murmured meeting Eddie’s eyes. In this moment Richie wanted to be selfish. Wanted to make Eddie his. He looked at Eddie’s neck longingly, Mrs. Kaspbrak would have a stroke. The old hag would probably lock lil Eddie-bear up and throw away the key, monitor him relentlessly so Richie wouldn’t even be able to sneak into Eddie’s room at night for weeks. Richie almost shuddered at the thought of all that time without being able to cuddle his boyfriend. Richie wasn’t sure he could bare that.

But did Richie ever  _want._

Eddie rolled his eyes but a smile stretched his face. “Great, Trashmouth’s back.”

“The one and only.” Richie grinned toothily. The look Eddie gave him kicked the oxygen out of Richie’s lungs, Richie felt like he couldn’t breathe. Like he was suffering from smoke inhalation. Eddie’ could see him, all of him, and was looking at him with so much love that Richie would have swooned if he wasn’t already laying down.The pretty purple bruise on his throat felt like it was sizzling in the heat.

Eddie just grinned as he ducked back down to capture Richie’s lips, hands coming up to hold Richie’s face. Richie leaned into Eddie’s palms. Eddie kissed him so softly. So sweet it made Richie melt inside. “I love you so much, ‘Chee.”  

“I love you, Eddie.” Richie exhaled. Cause it was all Richie could say, possibly the only words Richie would be able to utter for the rest of his life.

Richie slipped his thumbs under Eddie’s mint colored t-shirt. Eddie gasped against his lips as Richie rubbed circles into the smooth warm skin of Eddie’s slides. “Hey Rich,” Eddie pecked Richie once, twice, before pulling back. Eddie bit his lip and Richie’s gaze zeroed in on the movement. “What if you left a-”

“A hickey?” Richie exclaimed. “What about-”

“Doesn’t have to be visible.” Eddie continued then in one fluid movement tugged his shirt over his head. “But you and I would know. Just us.”

Richie thought he would die right there as he sat up on the bed. What could Richie possibly have done in a past life to have been able to get this moment? And this moment surprisingly turned gentle, sweet, and calm (for what it was). And whatever fire had been burning simmered down as Richie felt nothing but pure love.

Richie had seen Eddie shirtless plenty of times swimming at the Quarry but he took his time studying every freckle. Richie carefully reached out and touched Eddie’s collarbone tenderly. He played connect the dots with the freckles and beauty marks that expanded over Eddie’s shoulders, arms, and torso. Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed, pink lips parting a little. Slowly Richie bent down and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder.

They had time.

And Richie wanted this to last forever. He trailed his lips down to linger above Eddie's heart, feeling for the musical beating. Eddie drew in a breath and that’s where Richie would leave his mark. Richie went to work, kissing and giving little bites and licks to swallow all of Eddie’s gorgeous gasps. Eddie mewed beautifully and OK that was a sound Richie was never going to forget. Richie would be a senile 90-year-old man who couldn’t remember what the year was or even his own name but he was never going get that little purr out of his mind. Not that he’d ever want to...

Eventually, Richie pulled away to find… the tiniest fucking bruise. It was barely there at all, maybe only the size of a fingerprint. Eddie had made the whole thing look so effortless!

Well. This was embarrassing.

“It's so cute.” Eddie teased, giggling brightly as he looked down at the hickey.

“Your... face is cute.” Richie retorted lamely as hid his own face in his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he kissed Richie’s forehead and weaved his fingers back into Richie’s curls. “So you’ve said… like a million times.”

“Well, it’s true.” Richie pulled back kissing the smaller boy’s cheek. “Edward Kaspbrak you are the cutest boy in Derry, far none.”

Eddie snorted pushing Richie away. “Charmer.”

“Only for you,” Richie promised catching Eddie’s hand to bring his knuckles to his lips.

Eddie smiled warmly and brought his other hand to Richie’s ratty shirt. “May I?”

“My my, what a polite gentleman!” Richie whistled in a rather breathless impression of Southern Belle. Eddie rolled his eyes (yet again) but didn’t move. Richie blinked before realizing Eddie was still waiting for Richie’s answer. To make sure he was comfortable with this. God how Richie loved this boy. “Well go right ahead, sugar.”

Eddie wordlessly brought the material over Richie’s head and tossed it next to them on the bed. Richie felt the cold hit him, such a contrast to the inferno this room was few minutes prior. But this was just innocent exploring. Eddie mimicked Richie’s earlier movements, tracing patterns on Richie’s skin and taking note of sensitive spots. But Eddie observed with a small frown at the healing cuts, bruises, and scars that littered Richie’s skin. Eddie carefully pushed Richie back down onto the bed and gently hovered over him on his elbows. Then he pressed his lips over all the hurt. All the pain. Like he could kiss all of Richie’s boo-boos away, the physical and emotional ones.  

“You are so beautiful, ‘Chee,” Eddie whispered into his skin. “I remember thinking you were gorgeous, even in third grade.”

“When I was Bucky Beaver?” Richie asked, hoarsely. Throat tight.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie confirmed pressing kisses to some now fading green marks on Richie’s ribs from when Went ran out of beer. “Even then. Your smile was like nothing I’d ever seen before. So awkward with your teeth too large but it was so… you. Your smile made me feel all soft inside even though I was the butt of whatever godawful joke you told. It was that smile; so genuine. So unafraid. So powerful. ”

Eddie dragged his lips to a scar on Richie’s forearm from the bottle being thrown at him and breaking. Glass had cut into his skin and Richie had never been so grateful for all of Eddie Spaghetti’s medical tidbits when Richie had to sanitize and bandage that wound himself.

“You are so strong, Rich.”

Richie swallowed.

“So brave.”

How could Eddie say that? Richie shook his head. Eddie was the strong and brave one.

“You deserve so much more.” Eddie continued as he pushed up so their lips touched with every word.  “Cause you’re so good.”

Richie gaped at Eddie. He wanted to say that Eddie was wrong, that Eddie was the one that deserves so much more. More than a shitty overbearing mother and absolutely more than a fucking homophobic town like Derry. Deserved more than whatever Richie could give him. Eddie was always the one to make Richie feel wanted, needed, loved. Richie was too loud, too insecure, too selfish, too destructive, too annoying, and too weak to ever for a fraction of a second merit Eddie and -

Kiss.

“ _Eds._ ” Richie whispered.

Eddie’s hands cradled his face and wiped tears that Richie wasn’t even aware was there. He didn’t know he was crying until that moment. But Richie had never felt this… adored before and it wasn’t right. Richie didn’t deserve didn’t… but when he saw Eddie’s face Richie let all the self-hate go and believed his boyfriend. Believed that he did, in fact, deserve Eddie, that he was strong, that he was wanted.

Fuck. How was it that Eddie was able to do that every time?

Richie swallowed thickly, needing Eddie to know that he was  _everything_. “I’m gonna get us out here, Eds. I swear.”

Richie wasn’t able to do much for Eddie, but he was going to get him the fuck away from this town one day. One way or the other. They were going to leave this shithole behind.

Eddie beamed down at Richie. “I know.” He brushed some hair from Richie’s face before sprinkling Richie’s cheeks with kisses before pressing his lips imprints on the side of his nose from where Richie's glasses usually sit. “We’ll leave together.”  Eddie slid off of Richie and the gangly boy -honest to god- whined at the loss of comforting weight. But Richie didn’t have to protest long, Eddie guided Richie onto his side and wound his arms around him. Face nosing into the back of Richie’s neck and leaving a tender kiss there.

If anyone looked in right now they probably would have laughed at the sight, aside from Mrs. Kaspbrak who no doubt would send Eddie to a mental institute. Eddie was so tiny and Richie was so tall that his feet were almost off the end of the bed. Nevertheless, the moment was so perfect and Richie would be lying if he said it wasn’t a nice change. Richie had always felt the need to protect Eddie, even though the hypoallergenic boy didn’t need it and had proved that fact every day. And Eddie had him.

Richie closed his eyes and burrowed further into his boyfriend’s arms, imagining a life away from here. So far from all the hate. All the violence, anxiety, and fear. Where Eddie and Richie could be themselves. Richie would never allow for Eddie and him to be like his parents. Never ever. He'd rather die. As if Eddie could read his mind, the smaller boy squeezed the dark haired boy tighter to his chest. Richie relaxed, let himself pretend a little longer.  

This cuddling wouldn’t last. Eventually, Richie would have to go home. He’d say he hooked up with some girl to get his parents off his back and make his presence known by getting his dad a drink and stubbing out mom’s cigarettes to keep the house from burning down before sneaking right back out again to this. 

And one day Richie wouldn’t go back.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY didn't know what I was doing with this chapter so please give me some feedback. Thank you <3  
> ~  
> So chapter 15 was.... painful. I'm sorry bout that Y'all. But don't worry, friends! So there are going to be more angst chapters, in fact, the next update has us right back into the angsty feels; BUT I have a message of hope. A lot of people have been asking me if I was going to write a "Last time Richie Called Eddie Baby" and the answer is" NOOOO!!!"
> 
> Cause what sad ending where Eddie dies? Huh? Eddie dies? Nope. Never heard of it. *nervous laughing cause I'm in denial*
> 
> But seriously, this fic is going out CUTE. (cause F*ck Stephen King). So bear with me in the suffering cause things are going to be okay in the end.
> 
> As always thanks to the comment section! <3 I would buy you all expensive chocolate if I could. - Mythicalowlsociety xoxo


	17. Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I fell into a deep Reddie Pinterest hole and I saw all these posts about the Losers which is where I got some of the opening banter for this chapter. 
> 
> As a lot of these posts were memes I'm not sure who created the original source material so I cannot give a writers credit :( Just needed to acknowledge that some other people created these concepts/dialog lines. Plagiarism is bad, friends. 
> 
> Also, trigger warning for bullying and more homophobic slurs

The next time was when the world was crashing down... and it was all Richie's fault.

 

The Losers were at the lunch table goofing around but being quiet for the select members of the Losers club that were emersed in homework and studying.

Mike looked up from his psychology book with a sudden question; "How long can a human live without a brain?"

"It depends," Stan began, taking a bite out of his apple. "Hey, Richie how old are you?"

"HAR HAR! STAN THE MAN GETS OFF A GOOD ONE!" Richie grins going to poke Stan's side, a loathed gesture that Stan returns with a shove. Richie's only snickers at his friend's annoyance before dipping into his newest voice; "But ya got me all wrong, Stany boy. See, I'm da kinda guy dat likes ta t’ink t’ings out."

"Since when?" Eddie challenges, eyebrow raised. "One time you tried to eat a marshmallow... while it was on fire." Everyone burst out laughing, cackling at the memory. Years ago Richie had engaged Mike, poor sweet new to the Losers club Mike, in a game to Would you Rather. Mike had asked if Richie would rather go a year without Mrs. Kaspbrak jokes or eat a marshmallow when it was on fire. Richie promptly plunged his roasting stick into the flames before shoving the whole top of his burning stick into his mouth trying to eat the aflame marshmallow.

Needless to say, his mouth got badly burned. Eddie almost died of a heart attack. And Richie had to be rushed to the emergency room on the back of Silver.

Ya know, the good ol days.

"I feel so attacked right now," Richie whined. "How can you be so mean to me? Stan, I can expect. But this assault on my person from you babe? How could you?! And after I gave you such great-"

"B-b-beep b-beep, Trashmouth!" Bill intervened. "Nobody wants to h-he- hear about any of..." Bill broke off giving a vague gesture to Richie and Eddie's cuddled pose on the bench to the table. "that."

"Jealous much, Big Bill?" Richie taunted pulling Eddie all that much closer and resting his chin on the top of Eddie's head. "Not my fault you're not getting any-"

"BEEP BEEP, RICHIE." Eddie sputtered elbowing his boyfriend with a blush dusting his cheeks. Richie beamed. Cute cute cute!!!

“Sorry can’t resist, Spaghetti man.” Richie chirped giving his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

Just as Richie’s lips planted a slobbery kiss on Eddie’s face; Greta and her band of cheerleading harpies walked by the table. Eddie sprung out of Richie's grasp. Richie blinked, he hadn't even noticed but over the course of lunch, he had pulled the shorter boy so close that Eddie was basically in his lap. Not exactly how platonic male friends sit together...

_FUCK._

It was just so hard to not be affectionate with Eddie. Especially since the Losers all knew about them now, and Richie forgot how the rest of the world was still made of fucking homophobic assholes. Richie swallowed hard as he looked down at his lunch and waited for them to pass.

“Do you think-” Eddie whispered, not allowing himself to finish that thought.

“Nah Edward Spaghedward! Those bimbos have zero brains, too busy looking at their compact mirrors to pay attention to us regular folk.” Richie assured giving a smile that wobbled at the edges. Everyone nodded but nobody was convinced.

“Yeah, they're gone and they probably would have said something if they saw,” Stan concluded glaring at the pom pom posse.

Eddie remained tense and an excruciating foot away from Richie for the rest of lunch.

 

The rest of the day wasn’t much better. Eddie was on the lookout in the hallways between classes, only half paying attention the Losers’ conversation so that he could watch out for Greta or any of her plastic Barbie bitch friends.

And Richie wasn’t much better.

At one point during Study hall, he thought he saw one of Greta’s friends, Stacy? Was that her name? talking to Victor. His blood ran cold and his breathing stopped. The girl-potentially-named-Stacy turned and sent him the stink eye, which **fuckity shit goddamn**.

Both bullies responded at the same time:

Most-likely-a-Stacy-cause-she-definitely-looks-like-a-Stacy: “Take a picture it’ll last longer, creep!”

And Vic “Got a problem, Trash?”

Right. Richie was staring. Doy! No conspiracy here…  He and Eddie were fine. But Richie was still in an internal panic mode, so naturally, his common sense had been chucked out the window as his autopilot had full control.  Which meant his mouth (that traitorous motherfucker) took over: “Just wondering if you two banged whether your babies would take after the dad; mindless little baboons or the mom so an ugly snake or even a freaky hybrid of both! I do declare you guys could push evolution to the max! Think of the all the reality shows you could star!”

Richie blinked. He really didn’t mean to say that. SHIT.

Stacy and Vic also blinked.  

And the entire class did too.  

Vic’s face, after he picked his jaw off the ground, turned beet red. “You fucking piece of shit! You are dead meat-”

“Language, Mr. Criss.” Mrs. Dieter lazily objected, not even glancing up from her magazine.

But thank that apathetic teacher because her words (however disinterested they were) was enough to make Vic recoil.

“You’re dead.” Vic mouthed. Okay, Richie picked the wrong animal to represent Vic. As the fair-haired brute’s face started to cool and the red left his cheeks, the older teen gave a sickening shark-toothed grin like he was more than pleased to be gift wrapped the motive to finally murder Trashmouth Tozier in cold blood.

Richie gulped. Great, he was going to be pummeled after school. Well, what else was new? Richie quickly turned away to look at the clock. 3:25. Almost 3:30. Fantastic.

Richie flopped over his desk, resting his head on the cool surface.

Why the fuck was he like this?

 

After school couldn’t come fast enough. Before the bell could even ring, Richie was up out of his seat not paying any mind to Mrs. Dieter’s mild protest. He full on sprinted down the halls to his locker ignoring the “Hey watch it!”s and “Mr. Tozier! No running in the halls!”s.

Richie made it in record time to his locker and didn’t waste a second to crack open the lock. Maybe he was finally gonna make it! By now Eddie would be halfway down the west hallway, if Richie stopped to grab Eddie’s bag real quick then the pair could exit through the gym entrance and Eureka! They would get home without so much of a scratch.

Richie pushed past the students over to Eddie’s locker and easily put the combination in. (He had sneakily acquired the combo over a period of days so that he could surprise Eddie on his birthday by having sixteen helium balloons smooshed into the small storage space. The balloons flew out of their confinement and right into Eddie’s cute lil face when he opened the door). Richie hastily grabbed Eddie’s coat and binder, barely remembering to relatch the lock before jetting off down the hall again.

Richie barreled down the west wing to find… nobody.

Not a single person in sight.

Richie threaded his fingers through his hair as he stood there panting and trying to think of where in tarnation his boyfriend would go. He couldn’t have headed to his locker without Richie spotting him and he wouldn’t have gone outside without his coat. Eddie wouldn't've gone to the bathroom because “Richie public washrooms are disgusting!” so he would’ve just ignored nature’s calling till he got home to the sanctity of his bleach scrubbed toilet. Wouldn’t have turned down another hallway to go to a water fountain cause “Janitors only clean the fountains once a year! ONCE A FUCKING YEAR! There are more germs in that fountain than in all the school urinals combined!”

So where could Eddie have disappeared to? Unless….

Richie didn’t let himself finish. Couldn’t let himself finish that thought. He gunned down the hall and out one of the side doors to the back part of the school.

To his horror his suspicions were right. Richie saw Stacy first followed by Greta and some of the other cheerleaders from earlier in the day. They were leaning against the metal fence and smirking at something. Richie turned his head to see what they were looking at only for his stomach to drop and his blood boils in outrage. Pinned to the brick exterior of the school by Belch was Eddie Kaspbrak. His face was turned away as he struggled to get away from Belch’s grip. In front of him, Vic was raising his fist to lunge forward to punch the ensnared boy. Judging by the rough skin of Vic’s knuckles and Eddie’s quivering body, Victor had managed a few punches before Richie arrived

“Get the fuck away from him!” Richie bellowed. 

“Oh just in time, trash! Here save your boyfriend?” Greta leered wickedly.

Richie didn’t bother with a retort as he raced the remaining distance. Richie reached out and shoved Vic hard away before the older teen could hit Eddie again. Richie was taller than Vic now but not quite as muscular. Still, as Richie advanced again with his back straights he extended to his full height and his eyes blazing, Vic hesitated. He took a fearful half step back.

“Richie! Look out!” Eddie screeched.

Richie went to turn only to have his face meet Belch’s fist. Richie may have gotten the upper hand on Vic but Belch, the overgrown chunk of mutton, was not intimidated by Richie’s newfound height in the slightest. His blow sent Richie's glasses flying off his face where they landed somewhere on the pavement with a detrimental crunch. Richie’s vision blurred as he keeled over, someone plunging a fist into his stomach.

“Stop it! Stop it! Let him go, assholes!” Eddie shrieked.

Richie looked to see Belch wrapping his arms around Eddie from behind, caging the small boy to his chest to prevent him from helping. Eddie kicked and squirmed. “Stop it! Please!” Eddie begged before Belch clamped his filthy unwashed hand to silence Eddie’s screams. Richie rushed over and attempted, in futile, to get Belch’s beefy arms off of his boyfriend.

Vic, who had fully recovered, just tutted at Eddie. “No can do, fairy. Loverboy over here has had this one coming!”

Richie let out a yelp as he was pulled back by his curls.

Then he saw stars.

Richie felt a sharp pain on the soft spot under his chin as Vic did an uppercut. He could only stumble backward, fuzzy vision getting a panoramic view of the cloudy grey sky before Vic gave him another shove that had falling down down down to the pavement. Richie hissed as his palms hit the ground first before pain seemed to travel like an electric shock up the veins of his arms as his elbows locked straight with the impact. Richie could hear Eddie’s nagging voice from when they were in Gr.3. Small pouty Eddie with his round cheeks red with anger as he huffed while putting bright colored band-aids on Richie’s scraped palms. _“When you fall you have to absorb the impact by bending your elbows. My mommy says you could shatter your wrists or even your whole arm if you lock up. So don’t do it, knucklehead!”._

Richie woulda smiled at the memory if Vic hadn’t pounced on top of him to beat the living shit out of him. The blows came left and right. Across the face, in his stomach, on his chest. Like Vic was a ball of fury that couldn’t figure out what part of Richie he wanted to disfigure first. The iron taste of blood filling in Richie’s mouth was enough to kick start reality and have Richie stop laying there and taking it. But somehow, once Richie was conscious of what was happening, he didn’t start fighting back. He let out a laugh.

His giggles convulsed him, got the blood in his mouth to squirt out from between his less Bucky Beaver but still gapped teeth and onto his face like some kind of slasher movie fountain. He even got a few red droplets on Vic’s pointy face which had the older teen scrambling backward so he was more on Richie’s thighs.

“What’s so funny, faggot?!” Vic seethed.

Instead of answering Richie just laughed harder. Was this it? Did he finally go crazy?

“I don’t get the joke.” Vic barked. “But I wonder if your boy toy will find your situation so amusing.”

That got Richie to stop.

Vic went to stand but Richie jutted his hand out, catching Vic’s arm but Vic was too quick. The angry boy used his knee to get Richie in the crotch. Richie winced, body contorting as his vision got spots of black, his clutch on Vic instinctively letting go as Richie flinched in agony.  

“He’s not!” Richie cried out as he tried to get up. The hits to his head combined with his inability to see clearly made everything worse. He tried to sit up but sunk back down, the world sliding beneath him. “He’s not my boyfriend! We’re not gay! Leave him alone!”

“Not your boyfriend, huh?” Vic mused in a tone that could only be described as mentally disturbed and psychopathic. Even with the world going helter-skelter, Richie could make out the evil glint in the blond boy’s eyes.“Wouldn’t mind if I had a little fun then, would’ya Trashmouth?”

“Your not seriously gonna-” Greta sneered, so utterly disgusted by even the prospect that she couldn't finish her sentence.

“I’m gonna teach these lying queers a lesson they will never forget!” Vic fumes.

“No!” Richie insists. “Listen, I’m the one who insulted you. Eddie had nothing to do with-”

“Oh, I’ll finish you off later!” Vic promised as he advanced towards Eddie reaching out his twisted fingers to grab at Eddie’s face. Eddie gave something between angry and fearful noise from behind his muzzle of Belch’s hand.

Richie shot forward, his body still mostly on the ground, to grab at Vic’s legs tripping the other boy. Eddie took the opportunity to elbow Belch hard enough to get the stack of lard release him. Eddie dashed over to one of the trash bins grabbing the shiny metal cover for a weapon. The weapon of choice felt a little symbolic, as Eddie rushed Vic before the blond psycho could fully get back up off the ground. Eddie gave him a wack over the head with the tin lid that had the punk flopping back down to the concrete. Belch retaliated by slapping Eddie clean across the face, splitting open the hypochondriac’s lip. Richie tried once more to stand and luckily was more successful his attempt, rising onto his elbows. But it was still too slow as Belch hit Eddie again this time sending the boy tumbling over so the side of Eddie’s temple smashed into the brick wall of the school.

Eddie seemed to fall in slow motion. Gracefully with his head hitting the side building with a smooth thwack sound that broke Richie’s heart to shatters.

_Always protect your head! My mommy says death by head injury, especially head injury by falling, is the third largest cause of death in the whole wide world!_

Somebody screamed.

It was probably Richie.

Richie didn’t even bother to try to stand but rushed over in some kind of bear crawl to get over to Eddie. “Eds, you okay? Fuck, talk to me!”

Eddie just groaned, eyelids fluttering slightly without opening.

But he was alive.

Richie cradled Eddie’s face in his hand examining the now open wound which was a long cut stretching across from above Eddie’s eyebrow to about half an inch under his eye. Richie carefully tilted Eddie’s head, careful to not touch the forming bruises on Eddie’s face to look at the gash better. It was long and bleeding lots but it didn’t seem to be too deep.

Behind him, Richie heard one of the girls gasp “Is he dead?”

“Would serve him right.” Greta jeered.

What happens next was a blur. It happened in a flash. One second Richie was examining Eddie’s purpling face then next he was looming over Belch who was on his knees and protecting his head. Protecting his head from Richie who was wildly slapping, hitting, and punching. Richie felt an angry growl leave his throat, didn’t feel human as he was hitting Belch. Like his anger had somehow consumed him so much so that nothing else mattered but that Belch and then Vic and then fucking Greta would hurt.

Richie vaguely could hear the clack of the fence behind him, signifying that the cheerleading squad was running as fast as their little designer shoes could carry them.

“Rich” Eddie croaked his hand coming up to Richie’s shoulder. Everything evaporated at that moment as whatever anger turned back into fear. Eddie’s hurt. Had to bandage the wound.

Richie pulled away leaving a petrified looking Belch gapping at him. The bully that had long tormented him looked so small and helpless here. Vic, on the other hand, wanted one last word in. Criss gave Richie one last quick slap before he fled with a stumbling Belch not far behind him.

“Eddie, baby, you okay?” Richie asked. Everything was still unclear without his glasses, and possible concussion, but the lanky boy reached for Eddie’s hand and interlinked their fingers instantly.

“I’m fine, idiot,” Eddie answered but Richie could tell there were tears in his eyes. Eddie carefully maneuvered them over little ways where he bent down to retrieve Richie’s bent up but not completely destroyed glasses. “Are you okay?”

“Oh Spaghetti, you know it takes more than that to get me down.” Richie tried to chortle, his cheeks stinging and jaw sore.

“That was so scary ‘Chee,” Eddie whispered softly. “When you were on the ground- I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything I-I- should have fought harder. I should be stronger than this-”

“No, Eds! Don’t do this to yourself. The only reason this happened today is cause I screwed up. Twice!” Richie chastised, pissed at himself. God, what was his problem?! Now that he could see better, Richie carefully reached into Eddie’s fanny pack to grab a fistful of band-aids and wet wipes. Ever so gently he went to clean his boyfriend’s bleeding wound. By now the blood was dripping all down the side of Eddie’s beautiful face, matting in his hair, streaming down his neck, and drizzling onto his coral polo shirt. Fuck, another thing was that Eddie’s been out here in the freezing cold without a coat this whole time! Richie quickly slipped off his jean jacket to drape over Eddie’s shoulders. ” I broke our rules; I kissed you in public and then I fucking told Vic and Greta’s groupies off during study hall- and just was a fucking idiot! I’m so sorry baby, this is all my fault.”

“They would have found a reason to beat us up anyway, Chee.” Eddie shook his head softly. “It was always gonna happen. People talk here, and it’s nothing I haven’t got since grade 6. Hell, people always knew I was gay.” Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s palm. So much trust there. 

And wow.

Even when beat up, split lip, and bruised Eddie managed to take Richie’s breath away. The gesture not to mention the jacket that Eddie had slipped his arms into. Why hadn’t Richie given Eddie more of his clothes before? The cutie-patooty was absolutely eaten alive in that jacket and even when bleeding he was fucking adorable. Plus when Richie gets that jacket back it’ll smell like Eds and - Richie had to snap himself out of it.

He bit his lip as he finished putting some gauze on the gash, repeating the actions Eddie had done for him countless times before and would do countless times again.

“We need to tell the Losers about this.” Eddie sighed. “You may have denied being gay but if Greta is involved she’s gonna tell the whole school about us, fact or fiction in her mind. But I suppose in this case, for once, she's got it spot on." 

“Well just fuck me with a chainsaw!” Richie cursed as he pulled Eddie towards him and pressed a tender kiss to Eddie’s hairline. There was an undertone here. People talked in Derry. Gossip and rumors spreading more frequently then homicide or missing persons rates (which was saying something in Derry). News of the local faggots could around just about anyone now- as if Eddie could read Richie's mind, the smaller boy gave Richie a hug. 

One thing was for certain; things just got a whole lot worse.  

And no matter what Eddie said, it was all Richie’s fault.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to run out of "baby" situations. Dang, why did I create this framing device? So not sure how many more chapters there are gonna be. But we're not over yet! 
> 
> Also, I'm not sure how I feel now that I've made Ben homophobic? This work (not that I've ever really paid attention to my own rules) but it's supposed to be one-shots so I could just ignore that detail? Should I redeem him? Should I just cut him off completely? WHAT DO I DO???? I would love your feedback as I'm really on the fence about this. 
> 
> Thanks as always to my comment section. It's been rough but Y'all are such an inspiration to me <333 -xoxo Mythicalowlsociety


	18. Night Out

The next time was when Richie finally was gonna take his Eddie Spaghetti out on a date:

Richie jumped into his seat, scraping his desk over so it was pressed next to his Eddie Spaghetti. “Get ready, Eds! I’m gonna take you out for a night on the town!!! So forget about your homework tonight and put on your nicest undies cause we got some romancing to do. I got-”

Eddie cut him off. “By ‘night on the town’ do you mean driving me to Portland, picking up Bev, and then having all three of us go to Costco were supper consists of us running around and eating all the free samples? Cause I don’t think we can go back there after you got us forcibly removed out of the building-”

“Why would they put an entire display of trampolines out if they didn’t want people to jump on them?” Richie justifies.

Stan rolled his eyes from where his face was buried deep in his calculus textbook “Why am I not surprised.”

Mike just barked out a laugh. “Oh my god, Richie. What are you? Twelve?”

“On a scale from one to ten!” Richie winked before turning back to Eddie. “Anyways, Babe, I thought you had fun with Bev!”

“I did.” Eddie clarified. “I love Bev, she’s basically my sister, but having her third wheel doesn’t really make our ‘night out’ feel like a date.”

“Well, we could always try a-”

“Beep beep, Ruh-r-Richie!” Bill seethed with a well-pointed glare.

Richie snickered.“Get your mind out of the gutter, Billiam. Jeez, I'd say I was rubbing off on you but we all know I'm too busy rubbing off on- OW!"

Eddie took one for the team and smacked the back of Richie's head to shut him up.

“But no Eds, I was thinking like an actual night out. For realz.” Richie continued, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Don’t call me Eds.” Eddie snapped but then softened, looking down and straightening his pencils on the desk. “And we can’t exactly go on a date in Derry-”

“Leave that to me.” Richie grinned.

“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this?” Eddie sighed, utterly resigned.

“Probably cause you will.” Stan shrugged.

“Whaaaaaaa! Stany is being a big meany.” Richie pouted like a two-year-old just as the bell rang, but unsurprisingly Richie managed to jabber over the blaring sound.

“Do us all a favor and save your whining for your therapist.” Stan shot back.

“STAN THE MAN DO YOU WANNA FIGHT ME?!?!” Richie bellows in his Hulk Hogan voice, lips twitching up at the corners at his friend’s remarks as he clambered onto his desk, bending his noodle arms into corny wrestling poses.

“Mr. Tozier,” Mr. Harvey exclaimed in a beleaguered sigh. “I’ll tell you, once again, to move your desk back, sit down and be quiet or I’ll send you to the principal's office.”

 ~

“So what are we doing on this ‘night out’?” Eddie asked at lunch trying to come off casual and not to show excitement. But Richie could see it in his eyes and glow about him, Eddie wanted a date… even if the element of surprise was driving him up the wall.

“It’s a surprise Edward Spaghetward.” Richie sing-songy wickedly, knowing how pissed it would make Eddie.

Eddie’s plump bottom lip rounded out in a pout, eyes narrowing and eyebrow-raising indignantly but whether it was from the nickname or the vague answer or both Richie couldn’t tell. The smaller teen crossed his arms over his chest. “At least give me a hint.”

“Hey, Eddie there is this marvelous phenomenon called a ‘surprise’ where something is shrouded in mystery as to you know… other people don’t know what it is. Then there is a grand reveal to make it an actual surprise.” Richie teased going over to boop Eddie’s nose.

“Fuck off!” Eddie shrilled, batting Richie’s hands away. “I wanna know what to wear, Dickweed. Do I need to look nice? Do I need to change at all? Cause I’ll probably change into something a little warmer at least if it’s gonna be outside, the evenings get so fucking chilly here. But then again it could be anything with you- I could dress in layers but need knee pads or a jewel-encrusted cowboy hat for all I know.”

“Where would you need a sparkly cowboy hat?” Mike mused.

“It’s Richie, I’m sure he’d find a situation where something where it was required.” Eddie deadpanned like he was stating the obvious… and in a way he absolutely was.

“You know me so well, babe.” Richie gushed.  “But save your stripper Cowboy costume for when we’re-”

Eddie cut that thought off with a shove, sending his boyfriend toppling off the table bench. Richie, the nerve of him, just laughed till he was red in the face.

“I’m not helping you up, asshole.”

~

“So you’re all good to go with-” Richie yammered on and on _and on_ to Mike and Stan who were helping him with his big night. Trashmouth had got Bill to distract Eddie while the rest of the Losers helped Richie prep for his date in the last few minutes of lunch.   

“For the millionth time yes, Richie,” Mike assured.

“Well, are you sure? Cause I-”  

“Relax you're taking him on a date not asking him to marry you.” Stan rolled his eyes.

Richie blushed. _Marriage wowza- now there’s a thought. Bet Eds would wear a white suit. Orchids for a bouquet, daisies of any sort always spark up Eddie’s allergies. Bev would be Richie’s best-woman. Mike could be the minister/priest/judge/(whoever the hell marries you) guy… you probably need a training course or to be ordained to do that shit but if anyone would get qualified for that it would be Mike. Oh and Stan could train a bald eagle to be the ring bearer-_

Stan quirked a brow, it takes a lot to get Richie flustered and suddenly spaced out, not to mention so fucking quiet.  “Your not… asking him to marry you tonight, are you?”

“NO!” Richie shouted drawing the attention of a few people in the hall. _Jesus, volume control Tozier._ Richie decided a quieter tone would be better. “I just - fuck... I just want tonight to be perfect or whatever…”

Mike smiled warmly, clamping a hand down on his shoulder. “Don’t worry we’ll get you all set up.”

“Thanks, Mikey.” Richie beams. The three of them were just about to go to class when Ben approached them.

“Hey guys,” Ben greeted shyly.

Richie froze, he felt every muscle in his body tense, his eyes narrowed.

“Ben.” Stan regarded coldly. Mike crossed his arms, a gesture which definitely showed how muscular his arms were and emphasized how getting hit by Mike would feel like getting struck by an anvil that had been hurled 25 miles per hour straight to the face (most likely causing permanent brain damage).

“Richie, could I talk to you-”

“You’re already talking to me.” Richie clipped.

“R-r-r-right so.” Ben stuttered. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you are,” Mike muttered.

“What I did- what I said was wrong. I just- all I’ve ever known is that that certain life leads to AIDS and there is no perceivable cure for AIDS cause AZT costs like thousands of dollars and even then it’s really toxic to the system. There was this story in the paper about how this one girl in New York-”

“I get the point.” Richie conceded.

“No see I was wrong, I went with what was being reported but I see now that there isn’t a direct link to AIDs and being-” Ben broke off to whisper; “Gay.”

“Wow, that took a lot for you to say.” Richie jabbed.

“You’re right, I’m not really comfortable with it yet,” Ben admitted sheepishly. “But I want to be. I **need to be** able to get over it all cause you guys are so important to me.” Ben shuffled his feet nervously, eyes welling up like he was about to burst into tears.

Richie looked at him, really looked at this guy who used to be one of his best friends. Ben had these bags under his eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping well, his hair was messy, and he looked so utterly miserable. It was actually pitiful how remorseful he looked. Like a kicked puppy who is dripping wet from the rain all alone and hasn’t eaten in half a week.

“Will you help me understand? I won’t ever say anything so terrible ever again, I promise.” Ben pleaded. “I know what I did was awful and no easy fix but I’d do anything to-”

“Talk to Eds. If you can get in his good graces then-” Richie sighed. “Then I guess you can start making it up to me.”

“Yes! Yes! Of course!” Ben piped up eyes so hopeful.

“Hold on a tick,” Richie warns. “You’re not talking to Spaghetti today.”

“Oh?” Ben deflated. _Damn it! Its so fucking hard to stay livid at him when he’s staring with those stupid- sad doe eyes._

“No I got a hot date with him tonight and I will not have you killing the buzz.”

“Tomorrow then?” Ben suggests.

Richie shrugs. “Sure. Whenever you can sort this shit out. Just not today.”

“Thank you, Richie!” Ben cheers gratefully before running off. “I’ll find a way to make it right! I promise!”

“You okay, Rich?” Mike asked.

“Yeah.” Richie exhaled a breath that he must have been holding for a while. His chest suddenly felt a whole lot more clear. “Later Stanley! Now common Mikey, I got plans to discuss with you and a Phys. Ed class to skip after attendance.”

~

Richie's hand hesitated over the front door to the Kaspbrak residence. He was seriously thinking about climbing through his boyfriend's window to take him out on this date instead of this 'knocking like a polite gentleman caller' bullshit. Window climbing; that could be romantic, right? Pulling a fucking Romeo, they even had that forbidden lover's star-crossed lovers shit going on with homophobic Derry. Not to mention that the Toziers and Kaspbraks were kinda like the Montagues and Capulets the way Mrs. K loathed his family...

Speaking of that vivacious lady, Mrs. K must have noticed someone lingering on her porch and soon Richie could hear her lumbering over, breath heavy with the struggle of walking, as she went to inspect her visitor. Richie felt himself panic, he could probably flee and be halfway down the block before the gorilla of a gal reached the door. But Richie also kinda wanted to do this properly... or as properly as one could under the circumstances. Fucking A, Richie had even brought flowers, a mix match bouquet of pansies and daffodils plucked carefully from ol' Mrs. Clark's garden. Said bouquet was currently getting mangled by Richie's clammy hands as he just wanted to duck and run. He took in a shaky breath- he could do this for Eddie. 

Richie ran his fingers over his tangled curls he had tried so desperately to tame earlier, he tugged on his slightly creased button-up shirt and hid the flowers behind his back just as the last of the locks on the door (there was four of them) clicked open. 

Mrs. K's pudgy face was contorted from confusion to distaste in 0.231 of a second. " _Richard,"_ she said is name the same way Eddie said the word  _E-coli._

_"_ Why if it isn't the gorgeous Mrs. K, don't you look magnificent today in that robe. Absolutely ravishing! I do declare, that puce color really brings out the color in your-"  _bulging red neck fat_. "... Eyes. The boys gotta be wild about that-"

"What do you want, Tozier?" she cut in. 

"I'd like to borrow Edward for the evening-"

"Absolutely not!" Mrs. K snapped putting her hands on her hips. "He is running a fever-"

Richie bit the inside of cheek at her fucking bullshit. After all this time she was still on this emotional manipulative-

"Richie," Eddie warmly welcomed as he approached from down the hall and  _wow._  Richie couldn't fucking breath.Eddie was in a pastel yellow sweater over his polo he was wearing earlier and baby blue converse. Hardly anything cuter than what Eddie usually wore. But there was something different about his face, his lashes which were already long looked longer and darker. Mascara... was Eddie wearing mascara? _**HOT DAMN.**_  Where did he even get mascara from? Bev must have given some to him and Richie needed to give her a hug or a million dollars cause she was officially the greatest human ever cause Eddie looked like a fucking angel and the mascara was like a fucking picture frame to the masterpiece that was Eddie Kasprak's golden brown eyes. 

Eddie, the little shit, must have noticed Richie fucking gapping all slack-jawed and probably (most definitely) drooling. Eddie the audacity to smirk.

"I'll see you later, mommy." Eddie farewelled giving his mom a kiss on the cheek to cut off her tirade of why Eddie couldn't go outside with all the dust and germs when running a fever. Mrs. K tried to grab onto her son's arm to snag him back but Eddie darted out. Richie managed to kick his brain back into gear and stepped in front of Eddie. "I'll be back by 10."

"Edward you get back here this-"

Eddie just spun around to reach around Richie and closed the door to cut his mother off, grabbing at Richie's hand to walk them quickly off the porch and down the street before Mrs. K re-opened the door. Still screaming at her son to return home from the doorway until both boys turned the street corner. 

"Okay Chee where are you taking me?" Eddie asked after they were out of earshot from Sonia's screams. Richie couldn't help but grin when Eddie didn't let go of his hand and he swung their joined fingers joyfully as they strolled.

"Still a suprise, Spaghetti Eddie." Richie chortled.

"Richieeee-" Eddie whined. "You cannot be serious-"

"I'm never serious," Richie assured giving Eddie's palm a squeeze. "Just trust me, your gonna have fun."  _Or at least I hope you will._  

"God well I talked this over with Bill today so if you are planning to ax murder me in the woods or some shit you won't get away with it- what's that your holding?

"Oh!" Richie jumped, he completely forgot about the flowers he had in his other hand. "Y-y-yeah I um- uh g-got these-"  _Jeez spit it out stuttering Bill._ "For you." Richie finished lamely and pushed the flowers forward awkwardly. Okay, it wasn't really Richie's fault that he was acting like a total dork, how was anyone supposed to do anything functionally when Eddie looked so fucking good with his fucking mascara?

"Thank you." Eddie gasped, blush tinting his cheeks. "That's actually- sweet, Trashmouth." 

Richie gave a toothy smile back, taking the blush as a step in the right direction. 

"Wait is this... dirt? Whose garden did you pick these from?" Eddie cringed, nose wrinkling as he shook his hand to get the dirt off. 

"So little faith, Spaghetti man!" Richie defended. "OK, I might have picked a couple from Clark's yard..."

"Richie!" 

"What? I wanted to do something nice for you! First actual, official, date and all I wanted to go the full nine yards like some regular John Hues movie crap but I didn't think Mrs. K would appreciate me blasting music from a boom box or some shit so I just went old school and thought flowers. Cause you like flowers! Except for the ones that spike up your allergies but I did some reading with Mike in the library- I know I was in the library! Voluntarily. Shocker, right? And it said in this one gardening guide that-"

Eddie jerked Richie sideways so that they were in an ally way before reaching up to pull Richie down for a kiss. Despite the rough nature of the shoving, the kiss was gentle and sweet. A short brush of the lips just to end Richie's tangent. 

"Beep beep, Chee." Eddie murmured with his lips still touching. 

"Yowza Eds, if I knew flowers were gonna get you all grabby and give me some action I would have brought you bouquets earlier!"

"You were being so sweet, Chee. Why'd you have to ruin it?" Eddie rolled his eyes. 

"What I'm just setting the mood. Speaking of which," Richie pulled back to rummage through his pockets till he pulled out one of his dad's ties. "Close your eyes."

"Fuck you know I was kidding about the ax murder thing earlier!"

"Common Eds, I'm not gonna murder you I just am going to make this a surprise! I can't have you being able to see! Then you'd figure out my diabolical plot!"

"No way, Richie."

"Baby-"

"Don't you 'Baby' me! I don't want to die!!!"

"Don't be so overdramatic! I'm not going to kill you! I'm just gonna to blindfold you and lead you to an unknown location which I have not disclosed to anyone, whats the matter with that?"

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Would you just put the blindfold on?" Richie insisted gently turning Eddie around himself to drape the fabric over his eyes. Eddie grumbled out something incoherent but complied anyway. Richie positioned the blindfold delicately hoping it wouldn't smudge Eddie's eye makeup. After tying the knot, Richie spun Eddie back around and entwined their fingers. "Mmmm you look good like this." 

"Shut up!" Eddie scowled swatting the air but missing Richie's head by a long shot. Richie just tugged him forward carefully so Eddie wouldn't stumble too much. 

Richie treated the sidewalk slowly, much to Eddie's annoyance. He squeezed his hands every few blocks for comfort as he guided him town different twists and turns, taking a detour down Jackson Street just in case Eddie was keeping track of their steps to figure out where they were headed. 

A car slowly drove past them the people inside raising a brow and sneering as they caught sight of the two teenage boys. Richie dropped Eddie's hand quickly and tried to look casual on the sidewalk even though Eddie was blindfolded and holding a hodgepodge of stolen flowers. 

"Rich?" Eddie asked, only slight panic in his voice as his hand waved out trying to reach forward. "What wrong?"

"Nothing, Eds," Rich answered hurriedly, eyes locked onto the car. It was a miracle that the whole town wasn't buzzing with rumors of the faggot boys spreading AIDS around Derry. What if Mrs. Kaspbrak found out? She'd lock Eddie up for sure. The ultimate sickness, tell facilities that he was some lunatic gay so that they would shut him away and throw away the key. "Just keeping you on your toes."

"Not funny, fuck-nuggets!" Eddie grimaced. "Where did you go?"

"I'm here, Eds, baby, I promise," Richie affirmed, holding his breath until the car drove off before Richie slipped his palm against Eddie's. 

 ~

"Okay, Eds, watch your step- yeah that's it- just up ahead- a little farther now anddddd-" Richie encouraged. "Here. You can take off the blindfold, Beautiful."

Eddie didn't hesitate before he ripped off the blindfold and let out a gasp. They were in the Barrens and Richie with the other Losers had set up a picnic. There were Christmas lights set up around the trees which Richie had to borrow extension power cords from all the Losers, Bill stole three cables from his dad's office, to make actually work. Richie had baked brownies, all by himself, and got burgers from the Diner. There was one of Mike's Grandma's quilts on the ground. Richie had brought a boom box and put in tapes he knew that Eddie would like, all shit like Elton John and Cyndi Lauper which Richie couldn't care less about. But whatever, his ears could bleed for an evening. 

Eddie just took in a sharp inhale. His eyes slowly scanning the sight before him, he put the hand holding the flowers to his chest in shock. "You-you did all this?"

"Yeah mostly, okay well the others helped just a little. Mostly with the lights. I had Stan turn them on about five minutes ago cause that sack of bird shit was squawking out Smokey the Bear propaganda lines at me all through third period today about how I was gonna start a fucking forest fire if I left these suckers on for a long time." Richie rambled. "I thought it would look- nice." 

Worth the lectures. The sun was just starting to set, stretching peach colors across the sky and cast the shadows of the trees. The lights reflected on Eddie's face, getting caught in his hair and reflecting in his eyes. Pretty. Eddie remained in awe, not moving even to blink.

And okay, Richie did want to shock his boyfriend into being speechless but this was a little extreme... maybe Eddie thought it was stupid. Maybe Eddie was thinking; what a fucking loser, who the hell does this? The date was nowhere cool enough, fuck Richie knew he should have taken them roller rinking. Okay fuck no- Eddie would probably hate that even more. But it was hard to plan just anything! They could have gone to the Aladdin but it's not like they could have sucked face or anything... besides they go to movies all the time. But still somewhere a little less... Richie didn't even know the word. But obviously, Eddie hated this which was why he was being so quiet. Probably was thinking of a half-assed compliment to make Richie feel better about wasting his afternoon-

"It's gorgeous," Eddie whispered softly like they weren't smack dab in the middle of nowhere with no one for miles to hear them. It was tender, just for Richie. 

"You're gorgeous," Richie coos, lifting his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear. "Fucking mascara, Eds? Were you trying to kill me? I almost had a heart attack! "

"Stop!" Eddie flushed, lightly smacking Richie with his flowers. 

"What? It's the truth! Coulda died and went to heaven at the smoking hot sight of you _and_ Mrs. Kaspbrak before me-"

"If you don't bring my mother into this, you know the rest of our _first date,_ I'll kiss you." Eddie bartered, smiling coyly, pulling Richie toward the picnic.  

 "You drive a hard bargain, babe." Richie whistled as he let himself be lead over to sitting area. Okay, maybe this wasn't some fancy restaurant and Richie wasn't about to recite some Shakespeare soliloquies about love, cause Richie wasn't actually Romeo. And maybe Eddie snorted out giggles when Richie pressed play on the stereo and the first song that blared from the speakers was Africa by Toto. And maybe the burgers were cold and soaked in grease making them kinda gross.

But as they sat down Richie and Eds pressed a gentle kiss to Richie's lips; everything was perfect. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!! There! This chapter, after being chipped away at for over a month, is finally up :)  
> I'm so sorry that it took this long!!!  
> Ben's redemption story is underway. But will he make things up with Eddie? Find out soon! 
> 
>    
> I'm done with finals now! The first year of Uni is officially OVER!!!  
> As always thanks to my comment section <333 You keep me motivated. - xoxo mythicalowlsociety


	19. Healing

The next time was for healing:

 

It was Loser movie night in Bill's garage. The Losers were feeling nostalgic, pulling out the bean bag chairs so they would all be hanging out in a collective mound as they would watch all the worn out tapes in a strange, nonsensical marathon of the old favorite movies like _The Princess Bride, Indiana Jones; Raiders of the Lost Ark, Ghost Busters, The Gooneys,_ and _Disney's the Great Mouse Detective_. It was the first time in a long time where most of them would be together again. 

 

Ben was coming back. 

The first time in a long long time that the bookish boy would return to the group. This night would be a trial night of sorts and beneath the layer of nostalgia was fear. That was an emotion the Losers hadn't shared in a long long time either. But this time it wasn't a fear from a clear villain, some big bad boogie man to go BOO, no this time the fear came from inside all of them.

Fear of not being together anymore.

The Losers club felt like it was falling apart, Bev was gone and only called every once and a while. Too busy with her new life in Portland. And now Ben's brief banishment was weighing heavy on the conscious of everyone. Who would be next to leave? Maybe Stan's family would move away or Mike's new interests in football would deem him too cool for the rest of them or maybe Mrs. Kaspbrak would finally flip her lid and amid Eddie to some 18 century style facility or maybe Bill and Richie would finally (after all these years) blow up in each other's faces over something stupid only to effectively tare the group in half. 

 

If they couldn't redeem Ben; loveable, dorky, terrible taste in music, ready to make things right Ben then how could they redeem anyone else if they left?

 

So bowls of gummy worms, popcorn and M&Ms, and chips were brought out. They stole every afghan and quilt Mrs. Densborough owned and piled together like they were trying to merge themselves into one glob.

But Richie felt himself tick slightly. The set up was familiar but eerily different. Everything was there for a regular night with the Losers; the food, the movies, the blankets, the company, and (of course) the mom jokes. But everything was off slightly too. Nothing looked right. It felt more like a set up for a nightmare than for a fun night with friends. The way the familiar seemed to clash in the foreign atmosphere.

Maybe this was was all one of Richie's dreams. Maybe the matrix was real. Maybe Richie was being dumb. Maybe Richie needed a new a stronger glasses prescription.  

Maybe they were trying too hard to go back to the past by recreating something that no longer existed.

 

"Rich?" Eddie asked, jolting Richie out of his thoughts. Eddie gently reached up and grabbed Richie's hand from out his nest of dark curls, Richie had been tugging at his hair nervously and hadn't even realized he was doing it till now. "We don't have to do this ya know? We could leave now before everyone else gets here if you want. Go back to my place." 

 Richie was tempted do what Richie always did and wiggle his eyebrows and quip back playfully,  _"Ohhh back to your place, Eds. Be sure to buy me dinner first."_  But the words got trapped his throat. Richie licked his lips, "Do you? Want to leave?" 

Eddie stared up at him a mix of emotions in those pretty brown eyes. Determined but hesitant. Brave but terrified. "I kinda want to see how this goes... but I'd leave if you want to."

_I'd do anything you'd want me to._ Richie thought before cracking a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, can't leave now. Party hasn't even started yet."

Eddie gave a small smile, flimsy but still so strong as he squeezed Richie's palm, bringing their hands up to his lips to brush his lips on the back of Richie's knuckles. 

_Never could fool Eds even for a second._

He stared down at Eds and silent agreement was passed;  _We'll leave the second this becomes too much for either of us._

 

"G-g-od you two, get a r-room and stop mentally undressing each other with your eyes in front-t-t of me. " Bill teased tossing a pillow at Richie's face.

Eddie flushed and sputtered out a protest and Richie just let loose a laugh before letting go of Eddie's hand to grab the pillow. Richie pounced and smacked the pillow at Bill's head and calling out in some terrible conquistador accent:  "Take that, and that! Doth thou surrender, Densburough?"

 

Bill let out a laugh before lightheartedly shoving Richie off him and onto the mound of bean bag chairs. "Enough, T-trashmouth! D-don't make my mom c-come in here."  

"Aw doesn't worry about your mom, I put her to bed ages ago!" Richie leered and then jumped out of the nest on the floor to stand on Mr. Densborough's workbench. "I'm taking that as Big Bill's surrender! I, BIG DICK RICHIE TOZIER, REIGN SUPREME!" 

"Richie, shut up. What the fuck is up with you and jumping on shit? You're gonna bother the neighbors with your screeching." Stan clucked entered followed by Mike from the door connecting to the house, each toting big bowls of popcorn. Stan turned back to Richie, who was waving his arm in the air for victory, and rolled his eyes as he snuggled into the pile of bedding. "Eddie, come and get your neanderthal of a boyfriend before he fucking cracks his head open." 

"Awww Stanly, I didn't know ya cared bout little ol' me!" Richie cooed hopping off the bench and grabbing a handful of popcorn from Stan's bowl. 

"No, I'm just not sure the paramedics would be able to fit your damn beanpole legs into a body bag."  

Richie let lose an amused snort and just as he was about retort with his usual  _Stan the Man gets off a good one_ ; a knock sounded from the side garage door. 

Everyone froze and stared at the door. Slowly everyone turned to look at Bill. Only one person left that knock could be. Bill, ever the leader, gave a reassuring nod and a small encouraging smile. Mike moved first and went over to the door. On the other side, Ben stood there, cradling a bundle of more blankets and box of Coke cans.   

"Hi, guys." Ben smiled small why a shy wave. 

"Hey," Mike said first, moving aside so Ben could sheepishly step into the garage. "here, I can take that." Mike offered as he grabbed the box of pop to set it over on the workbench. 

Richie felt frozen. Speechless as he watches Mike come back over and slide in next to Stan while Ben remained standing awkwardly at the edge of the bean bag chairs. 

"Sooo..." Ben starts. "how-how is everybody um, doing?"

"Fine," Stan replied noncommittally. 

Silence....... Bill clears his throat. 

Then to everyone's shock, it's Eddie who moves next. He leans far over Richie's lap to tug on Ben's sleeve. "Come 'n sit down." 

All the tension in Ben's body seems to leave for that moment as he follows Eddie's tugging and slots himself down next to Richie. Richie bristles as their elbows briefly touch, taking a sharp breath in through his nostrils. Ben tenses up again, glancing at Richie apologetically before pulling his arms and legs carefully into himself as to be careful not to touch anyone again. 

Silence. 

"What do we want to watch first?" Stan asks, voice level. 

"I think it's Eddie's turn to pick first." Mike smiled sending a warm and supportive look down at the shortest boy. Nobody has kept track of the turns to pick in a long time, then again it's been ages since the last movie night. They started the turns when people would squabble over what to watch first but then as they fell out of the rotation the squabbling got more intense as people bickered not only about what to watch but whose turn it was to pick. It was almost always impossible to vote cause there would be four movie suggestions and " _I call bullshit! Eddie's only agreeing with Richie cause their dating! Besides, the two of them aren't even gonna watch the full thing cause they'll be too busy sucking face"_  which left not enough people to make a majority. The last movie night Bill had just gotten a dice out and whoever had the highest roll got to pick the movie.  

Regardless, nobody argued with the sentiment. 

Eddie briefly looked over the selected Losers Classics for the night and popped  _The Princess Bride_ in. Which Richie had to agree was the perfect film for the night; light-hearted and not too serious. Action for Bill and Mike, a well-constructed narrative for Stan, comedy for him, and drama/romance for Eddie and Ben.

The film is one of the favorites of the favorite films, especially to Ben. 

Eddie returns to his spot as the movie starts and makes grabby hands at Bill who tosses him the gummy worms. Satisfied, Eddie leans back, plopping the gummy worm's onto Richie's lap (cause the candy was always really meant for him anyway) and snuggles into Richie's side.

"Dammit, Eddie why'd you g-g-give the worms to Richie? N-nobody is going to get one for the r-r-r-ruh-re FUCK rest of the night." Bill whines through his stutter. 

"Yessss that was my **_evil_ ** lot! Mwahahaha." Richie says in a loose-sounding Vincent Price voice. 

Richie momentarily forgets anything was off in the group dynamic and kisses Eddie's cheek as a thank you for the candy. Then Richie throws his arm around Eddie's shoulders and rests his chin on his boyfriend's soft strawberry-shampoo scented head before grabbing a handful of gummy worms to munch on. Out of the corner of his eye, Richie saw Ben shift adjust the blanket around him. 

Right, Ben was here. Which both felt like a natural and unusual thing to note until the memories of the last time all the Losers were together for a movie night came flooding back. Richie's arm around Eddie tightened as he side-eyed his old friend. Ben, who was looking at the screen, turned to meet Richie's glare. 

_Ya got a problem with this?_ Richie asked with his eyes. Richie still managing to intimate Ben despite the fact that Richie had a gummy worm hanging out of his mouth. 

Ben blushed, eyes flicking to the way Eddie's face was carefully tucked into Richie's neck and the protectiveness of Richie's embrace. But Ben just gave a sort of smile that was somehow equal parts apologetic-content-fond and nervous. Cause somehow Richie just curled up with Eddie while a movie played was the most normal thing about this whole night to Ben. And Richie had to admit that he and Eds were a picture to be seen, they were pretty fucking adorable even when they were teenage boys.

Eddie looked up at Richie and then over to Ben. He gently rested his hand on Richie's knee.  Richie let his posture relax... a little bit as he turned back towards the TV. 

Richie slurped up his gummy worms and rested his head back on top of Eddie's. 

The universe seemed to click.

The plot of the movie kicks off and all of a sudden you got the jokes, the romance, the fight scenes. And then Richie is laughing and pulling Mike up so they can reenact the first sword fight with Mike being  "The dreaded pirate Roberts" and Richie being Inigo Montoya. Both of them waving their arms around stupidly, no more gracefully then they did when they were twelve. Stan complains that they're blocking the screen and everyone else hoots and hollers with cackling laughter. 

"Well Eddie, I've been slain." Richie bellows as he collapses down onto Eddie, effectively squashing his boyfriend into the bean bag chair. "Won't you give a dying man his last wish and give me a kiss before I'm relinquished to the black abyss?"

"You're not dead, ya idiot. You're only knocked unconscious" Eddie shoot back pushing Richie off his lap and onto the cold garage floor. 

"Fuck, I will be if you keep playing so rough with me, baby." Richie jokes sitting back up and pulling Eds back into his side turning to whisper in his ear. "But you know I don't mind ya manhandling me. That's pretty sexy." 

"Can it, Trashmouth." Eddie guffaws, shaking his head good-humouredly, lips tightly going down to suppress a smile as he lightly elbows Richie in the ribs. "And quit hogging all the gummy worms, asswipe."

"As you wish." Richie winks as he passes the bowl of gummies over.

Eddie's cheeks turn rosy and he gives a real smile. The pretty one just for Richie. "Cheesy, motherfucker." and he presses a sweet kiss to Richie's lips.

Mike and Bill whistle at them. And Richie pulls back to see Mike and Bills grins and Stan smirking though rolling his eyes.  And then he turns to Ben who has a sort of soft expression on his face. 

The losers club might be cracked a little. And it might take time for things to really get any better with the linger apologies in the air and words that can't be unsaid. And amends have started to be made. And those apologies of teary-eyed regret might not be enough. Or at the very least, the forgiveness isn't all going to happen in one night. As the film plays everyone seems to take turns, like some kind of jailhouse guard duty, at studying Ben to make sure he isn't squirming or glaring at the couple sitting next to him. 

Things might never be the way they once were. 

Ben gets up about ten minutes later, "Anybody want a Coke?"

There is a chorus of replies as Ben retrieves the drinks. 

"Here you are, Rich." Ben says gently while placing a can into Richie's waiting hands.

Richie accepts the drink with a small grin before reaching over to offer Ben some gummy worms. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY.  
> LIKE SO SO SO SORRY.  
> I don't know what happened but I had no motivation to write and then between getting a full-time summer job at a camp to pay for my tuition and school starting back up again I just haven't written anything in ages! I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter so please tell me what you think. 
> 
> So if you've stuck around, Thank you! And welcome to this pile of fluff and angst for anyone new. I'm a fool who can't update regularly (apparently) but I appreciate you for reading :) Love you all! - mythicalowlsociety xoxo


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